


Monochrome Chât

by tamagopants



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: AkuSai, F/M, KH Big Bang Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:30:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 77,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamagopants/pseuds/tamagopants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: Lea doesn't want to go back to London, Isa's tired of being the village freak, and Saix has no idea what she really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings and Disclaimer: The high rating is for language and frequent explicit content. The story discusses themes of child abuse and psychological trauma. It contains cross-dressing and heavy scenes of sex, domestic violence and dub-con. There's one scene of self harm. For the fic as a whole, the focus is on split personality disorders, but I don't claim to be an expert on this very real issue; much of this story's inspiration on the personalities is actually taken from the concept of Kingdom Hearts' Somebodies vs Nobodies, and its core message on the strength of heart. 
> 
> Acknowledgements: Foxie, Nikki and Zenelly. Foxie, for her endless encouragement for me to keep pushing with this fic and being the cheerleader I needed to beat my inner procrastination demons. Nikki, for her gorgeous and numerous pieces of fanart for this story and also for writing Broken Cookies, which inspired this fic in the first place. Zenelly, for of course, hosting the Big Bang and seeing it through. Thanks so much, guys!! *kisses*
> 
> FST: [mediafire](http://www.mediafire.com/download/89cszek9ttfdxxf/FST_MCHAT.rar) / [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/pfmcrain/monochrome-chat-fst) (each song corresponds with the chapter)
> 
> Fanart: by the wonderful Nikki at her [tumblr](http://angelswithouthearts.tumblr.com/tagged/monochrome-chat)

Every house guest wanted to play with the cat.

What a pretty creature, they often remarked. How much?

From its corner, the little cat would watch as guest and owner talked in spirits about price, and then the door closed it in to the world of the dark.

When it grew older, the doorbell rang less and its owner and his men crossed their arms. Not everyone wants to play with an old cat, they realised, and so they bought a little mouse. The owner could count his money again, but the mouse brought in misfortune.

The house rattled and the owner began to wail. The light seeped into the cat's corner, blinking in two shades, bright blood and the sky of midday. The cat cowered, because its door had opened and it thought it was going to be the one-eyed man with the steel-capped boots.

It's all right, son, the voice said, though. You're going to be okay. 

The cat was ripped from the darkness, and it cried out – forever, it seemed. The colours burned its eyes, drowned it in the ocean of terrifying freedom. It was confused, and frightened, but the voice gave him clothes and fresh water and the warmth of a gentle hand – and this was no way to treat a cat.

It huddled against the voice and saw the lights sliding over its head, and it followed them to see streets, post boxes, spacious avenues exposed to the night. It screamed until it went hoarse, remembering the packed maze at the arches of the promenade, the exploding fireworks above, the glistening boot caps, the one-eyed man's car, the powerlessness of its cry.

Terra Allsands let out a tremendous sob, as he remembered he wasn't a cat at all.

**-x-**

It had rained the whole way. For all Lea Murphy knew, he could be driving down a canal on a one-way trip to the seafloor. He wound down the passenger window in a desperate attempt to read the house numbers, and his Bug's battered windscreen wipers fought the heavy rain.

16.

14.

12.

He slowed down with the intention of rolling to a stop at 8, but the Bug had had enough. Like an old man collapsing onto his bed at the end of the day, the car lurched against the kerb, sputtered and finally, stalled.

Lea examined his left and right. He could practically hear Reno pissing himself with laughter at the poor parking. _Get out_ , his brother would have said. _If you're going to drive it like that, get out my car_.

Lea yanked out the keys and sat back. He preferred the rain to the weighty silence of the Bug, so with a deep breath of recently-acquired strength, he got out.

The door to 6, Blue Park Lane was open. Its garden path was bordered by daffodils and warm pink hyacinths, and a girl was meandering down it, playing on an invisible hopscotch. She was safe from the rain, her little frame swallowed up by a plastic mac that put ladybird spots on her back and antennae on her head. She stomped a few times in her wellies, right before the front gate, and then a burly man behind her scooped her to his side. Lea caught a brief look of the pair's faces as they neared, and then an umbrella exploded skywards and settled over his head.

"Lea Murphy?" the man shouted over the rain. He held out his hand. "Liam Gardiner. Welcome to Silverkey. It's a pleasure to finally meet."

"Thanks. It's good to put a face to the name."

"Come on, let's get you away from this horrid weather. Leave your luggage to us."

Lea bent a little to see past the umbrella. Someone else was jogging down the path, and there were two other people in the doorway up ahead. "Seriously, we insist," the jogging stranger said. He was doing squats in preparation for picking up the bags. "Zack Fair. I'm your neighbour." Zack extended a hand, but he took Lea's keys instead. "Go on inside; my wife's just made tea."

"Be careful; it's an old model," Lea called after him warily. Even in the poor visibility, he could see Zack approaching the Beetle the way a restless tinkerer might creep up to a perfectly healthy pipe. "You need to swing the front seats forward to get to the back."

"Yeah, yeah." Zack waved a dismissive hand.

Liam handed over the umbrella. "Naminé," he said to the little girl hiding behind his leg. "Head back inside with Lea."

Wordlessly, Naminé took Lea's hand and led him up the garden.

**-x-**

As a law-abiding officer, Inspector Squall Leonhart knew not to judge by appearance, but he was aware that first impressions often said a lot. Not everything, but a lot.

Lea Murphy looked an utter wreck. He reminded Squall of his years in police academy when as part of an exercise, half the class wore custodian helmets to signify the police, and the other half – the criminals – had overdressed in dirty shirts, temporary tattoos and mud-caked biker's boots. Lea barely filled out his clothes, had a shock of damaged red hair, sported uneven stubble and had tried to hide the cigarette burns in his shirt by rolling up his sleeves. He didn't have the courtesy to take off his shoes in Zack and Aerith Fair's house. He stank of rain and smoke, such that Aerith was nearly bowled over by it when she offered him a towel and a spare pair of slippers. While she distracted him with a hot cup of tea and a homemade brownie, Squall stood at the door and surveyed the Beetle through the mist-like rain. Both Liam and Zack seemed perplexed that there were only three small boxes' worth of belongings.

Squall turned away from the front garden. "Travelled far, Mr Murphy?"

"Call me Lea." He stood up to shake Squall's hand; he had some civility at least. "I drove from Stratfield Saye – near Reading; took me about two hours."

"But you're a Londoner," Squall said.

"Yeah," Lea returned, "and going by that uniform, you're police."

"Inspector Leonhart," he supplied. He motioned for Lea to sit back down, but the gesture went amiss.

"Did you run background checks on me?"

"It's standard procedure."

"Well, I'm here for a fresh start."

"And I'm only here to formally welcome you to the community," Squall answered evenly. "Sit down and take the brownie before Aerith loses all feeling in her legs."

Lea blinked, apparently unaware that Mrs Fair had been setting up an orderly tray at the coffee table right in front of him. He swore under his breath at the sight of her and stretched to do the tea himself. "Hey, I can manage; you sit down."

"It's okay; I'm only seven months," said Aerith. "I want to move around while I still can." She sat next to Naminé, sipping her tea. "What brought you to Silverkey? It must be quite a change from city life."

"That's what I need." Lea's gaze shifted to Squall, perhaps trying to work out just how thorough the background check had been.

"It's a lovely town," Aerith enthused. She was clearly unfazed by Lea's thuggish looks, whereas Squall was already thinking about which of his three cells to dump him in. "I think you will enjoy the country life. We often find that it's difficult to go back once you've had a taste of it."

Lea rubbed his collar, and through the thin material of the cheap shirt, Squall saw the silhouette of various tattoos on his arms and chest.

"When you took the house next door, you requested that your landlord look into job opportunities for you," Squall said. "I took the liberty of doing this for Liam and have a job vacancy for you."

Lea somehow managed to look indignant despite having half a brownie in his mouth. "Already?"

"Don't be surprised. I know the ins and outs of Silverkey." Squall handed over the information pack, which Lea took warily. As the redhead sank back in his seat, his gaze lingered on Naminé.

"Hey, you like to draw?" He scooped up a colourful pair of finished works; Naminé caught a few of her felt tips before they rolled to the floor. "You're really good. Lots of grass and sky," he remarked. He pointed to a red square. "Is this your house?"

"We live on a farm," Naminé explained.

"You draw animals?"

Naminé shook her head.

"Nah." Lea swept her away from her shy admittance as easily as turning a page. "They're not easy to draw, are they. One time, when I was in primary school, I drew this picture of an alpaca in profile for this project our class was doing; I was so proud of it 'cause I mean, my brother was going on and on about it to anyone who'd listen. You'd think I'd just outdone Picasso or something. Anyway, when it came to the class display, my teacher pinned it upside down by mistake – it was that bad a picture – and people thought I'd drawn a toilet as a representation of my thoughts on South American culture." He shrugged, laughing quietly to himself. "Turns out Reno was the one who originally said that, and it escalated from there. Let me guess," he said abruptly, and his head turned to Squall. "You did some searching on my brother too. Is that what that deep frown's for?"

Squall started a little, instantly resenting this flash of weakness. "Should I have searched your brother?" he threw back. His attempt to sound authoritative was quickly destroyed when he tripped over the last word. Squall was distracted, confused. He was frowning, of course, but it wasn't aimed at Lea. Aerith's look of bewilderment too, zeroed in on the armchair next to the redhead.

Somehow, a story about an alpaca and a toilet had been enough. Squall was only sorry that Liam missed the moment, because for the first time in two years, Naminé broke into a smile.

**-x-**

To Lea's relief, Liam was mercifully understanding of the dangers of information overload.  He talked briefly about the tenancy agreement and showed the house, and then he slipped into a quick disagreement with his daughter and called it a day. Liam finished the formalities by pinning a yellow card to the fridge. "That has my home phone and mobile number," he said. "Any problems, you give me a call. Inspector Leonhart gave you full details of your new job in that pack there; you start tomorrow, reporting to Headmaster Lawrence, and Ienzo Friday will be showing you the ropes."

Lea held open the porch door as Naminé wriggled her feet into her wellies. "Thanks for everything."

"Not a problem," said Liam. "One last thing I think might be good for you to know is that Silverkey's Mayor recently passed away. A guy named Xemnas Allsands and I are running our own campaigns to be the new Mayor."

Lea grinned. "And do I get evicted if I don't vote for my landlord?"

Liam snorted. "No, but you might find the rent might gain an extra zero." He zipped up his coat and freed his rather impressive mane of brown-pink hair from the thick collar. "Baby, you've got them on the wrong way round," he added. "Come here; I'll carry you." In a swift move of experience, he lifted Naminé up. She dangled limply, arms a weak loop round her father's neck. "Take care of yourself, Lea; I imagine we'll see each other soon." Liam fitted Naminé's ladybird hood over her head and walked out, and after shutting the marble glass door on the rain, Lea was plunged into the silence he had been dreading all evening.

He stared down the hall; the bare walls, bleached carpets and lonely rooms merged into one long stretch of emptiness, and all that had colour was Liam's post it note. Lea heaved a sigh and decided he might as well add that number to his phone's empty address book.

He sat on the kitchen counter and tore open Inspector Leonhart's information pack next. He scoured the words for the fundamental part, the heart of the matter. He sighed and slowly, he slid the papers back into their envelope. What _had_ he been expecting, with his qualifications?

Lea turned off all the lights and grabbed his keys. He had been wrong the whole time. He wasn't ready for this at all.

He threw open the door and once again, it was just him and the rain. Somehow, the combination of cold water trickling down his face and muddy puddles eating the bottom of his trousers was just the right dosage of dull pain he needed to lose any reminder of Reno – the Bug, the empty house, the prickly feeling of realisation that followed each time Lea had a joke and no one to tell it to.

He walked – for ages, it felt – down empty lanes that sliced cornfields from greenhouses, through dirt tracks embedded in small hills like a father's belt across his belly. The rain softened, cleared to give way to the gibbous moon teetering on the fingertips of a birch tree. Lea spotted a bench secured in concrete, framed by unkempt grass; he went to sit down, just to put his rampant thoughts to rest, but movement a little farther ahead caught his eye.

"Hey," he called, a little wary of what he might find. "Who's there? Are you okay?"

He swung himself over the bench to see a stranger on all fours, seemingly peering under a bush. "Shit," she kept saying over and over again. "Shit! What am I going to do?"

"Hey," Lea said again. "Are you all right?"

She sat back, apparently happy to sit in thick mud. "No," she admitted, and then she shouted, "Pluto! Pluto, where are you?"

"Pluto?" Lea repeated. "That your dog?"

She nodded, scraping back her long blue hair irritably. She made quick work of it by scooping it into a messy bun. "Oh, it's worse than that," she muttered. "The dog's not even mine; he's the kids'. Shit, Xemnas is going to kill me—! Pluto!"

Lea studied the hedge. It was too tangled for a person to crawl through, too tall to climb over. "Is this where you saw him last? Where does it lead to?"

"I think it's a barley field," she said.

"Maybe there's another way round," Lea suggested. "Come on, let's check the perimeter."

"There's a half wall a little farther down." She followed after him, their shoes squelching with each step. "It's deeper on the other side, though. I don't think I could—"

Lea stuck a foot in a niche in the wall and hoisted himself up. The wall was wet, slippery. He peered over the other side. "Yeah, it is a bigger drop," he said. "Can you get up?"

She copied him, clambering onto the wall with a small grunt; her oversized anorak screeched against the wet stone. "So now we just need to jump to the other side?" she said uncertainly. Lea nodded, and without waiting for her, he leapt and landed with only a momentary aftershock.

"It's not too bad," he called up to her. He lifted his hands. "Come on, I'll help you down."

She wriggled to the edge, dangling her foot as low as possible.

Lea had done things like this before, from taking shortcuts home to the less innocent adventures of trespassing. These instances had been littered with moments when he had breached personal space in favour of not getting caught; he had pushed his friends' thighs and arses in order to help them through narrow windows; he had held his brother's arms to pull him over six foot railings and they had crashed into a bed of rubbish together. Lea was reminded of those moments as he lifted the stranger down, her hands on his shoulders and their torsos briefly pressed up and against each other.

His mind rewound to his teenage years of experimental one night stands, and then shot back to the present, where his hands had contacted her. He blinked a few times.

"Pluto!" she called, walking through the field with difficulty. She swore under her breath as she looked back at the visible trail of disturbed barley she was leaving. "We shouldn't walk around here too much; it's Mr Gardiner's property."

"Liam?" Lea said. He kicked at the barley. "He's all right, isn't he?"

She wore quizzical look, as though Lea had just announced that a crocodile with a toothache was perfectly safe to hug. "Come on, Pluto…!" she tried again.

"Pluto!" Lea joined in. He had no idea what he was looking for – he could be beckoning a crabby Rottweiler who hated redheads for all he knew – but he was secretly glad for the distractions the stranger offered. "Hey," he called after her. "If I'm going to join your search, can I at least know your name?"

"Saix LeFévre. You?" She turned round after she spoke, the start of a smile on her face. He delayed answering her return question, creating a reason to study her. She was pretty. Unusually pretty, a rough and dishevelled slant on conventional beauty. Messy hair, peg legs, long fingers, cheeks that glowed a healthy pale in the moonlight, a colour palette that reminded Lea of white clouds kissing the sea's horizon.

Lea had to admit, Saix LeFévre was one fucking beautiful guy.

**-x-**

Liam didn't get out of the car as soon as he turned off the engine; consequently, neither did Naminé. Liam used those still seconds to use the rear view mirror to survey her, his only baby. She was tiny and unmoving in the backseat. "You like Lea?"

Her gaze rested on the back of his head rather than the mirror. She nodded.

Liam bit his lip, kept his relief and hope under firm control. "That's good," he commented after a moment. "That's good progress."

He got out of the car with Naminé in tow. Their jumps across the gathering puddles alerted the movement detector, which flooded the front garden of their townhouse with light. Liam turned the key and called out, "We're back."

Liam hung up their coats as Naminé let her mother kiss her hello. Then, Arlene Goldsmith straightened up and like a chemical reaction, her smile dissolved into an acidic sneer at the mere sight of him.

"Why don't you go upstairs and play until dinner?" Liam suggested to Naminé. As soon as their daughter was out of sight, Arlene rounded on him.

"Wow, I never guessed our new tenant is an invisible man," she snapped.

"He wasn't up for more socialising." Liam kicked off his shoes and sniffed the air. "Are you still cooking?"

"Yes," Arlene huffed. "I put on a roast because I thought you'd be bringing back impressionable company. But, once again, I overestimated your capability as a mayoral candidate who can actually be taken as a serious competitor. You always do this." She stomped back to the kitchen and yanked open the oven door. "You go out with your promises, building me up to think you're about to lasso the world, and then you come back with something as crap as an atlas, and what comes after that? You accuse me of being overreaching, over the top, when all I'm doing is trying to match you. You make a fool out of me every single bloody day!"

"Look, I said you should make something nice; I didn't say cook a whole chicken, did I? Bloody hell, you cooked a whole chicken?" Liam revisited his words, more interested than horrified.

Arlene threw off her oven gloves and began to hack at their dinner with a two-pronged fork and a carving knife. She jabbed him aside with an elbow, but Liam slinked behind her to kiss the side of her neck. "Piss off," she snapped.

"Leave the dinner a sec; sit down." He nudged her to their kitchen island, a little pleased to see how easily her anger fell aside for begrudging curiosity. "I've got something to say; something really important."

Arlene wriggled in her seat crossly, pushing him away and then on second thought, an inch closer. "Liam Gardiner, if the word 'marry' is in your next sentence, I promise I will carve you the way I will that chicken."

Liam cupped her face. "She smiled," he said simply.

Arlene's lips thinned. "What?"

"She smiled," he said again. "A proper goofy grin and giggle. Leonhart told me. I was unloading Lea's car, but she smiled."

The numerous layers to Arlene's iron defence began to crack at the edges. Her worry lines faded, taking years off her, and she managed a jittery smile of her own. "She doesn't smile, Liam," she murmured, "not since I left the door open. Leonhart's just trying to score points with you."

Liam shook his head, grinning. "Nope, Aerith saw it too."

"But how?" She slid off the stool, slotting into Liam's shadow easily. She felt tense against his ribs, hands gripping the fabric of his damp shirt as though she couldn't believe she had ever let go.

"Lea Murphy, apparently." Liam surveyed their kitchen over Arlene's head, at the numerous pictures Naminé had drawn and put up around every available surface. "I don't know why. And…and I know we shouldn't get our hopes up, but he might be able to help."

**-x-**

The barley spikes dithered like springy metronomes as the sound of rustling got louder, and to both Saix and Lea's relief, a copper-coloured puppy dashed into them.

"Pluto," Saix exclaimed, and she swept the small spaniel up into her arms. She scolded the dog before breathing out a long sigh and letting the muscles in her shoulders relax. "It's really lucky you're here; you must have piqued his interest and he came back. Thank you."

"My pleasure," he returned. Pluto looked between them, panting happily without a shred of guilt. Saix zipped the dog in the front of her anorak, and Lea helped her back up. Now that the panic was over, she sat comfortably next to him, the heels of her wrecked espadrilles digging into the wall. Pluto began to climb over their laps, sniffing Lea's pockets.

"So, you er…you mentioned kids?" Lea said. 

"They're not mine," she answered lightly. "I live with their parents; you know, a roof over my head in exchange for helping round the house. Not very well, mind you." She gestured to Pluto and her lips thinned. "What about your family?"

"None in Silverkey; I only arrived today." Lea jumped off the half wall before he let his thoughts wander to dangerous territory. "So, that same family made you walk a loopy spaniel in the pouring rain by yourself?"

"That was my bright idea," said Saix. She began a slow walk back. "I often let them down, so I do stupid things like this to try and make up for it."

"Let them down? How?"

"It's a long story," she replied dully, and in the same way Lea had skirted shy of the subject of family, Saix dodged any further conversation on this point. She smiled. "Anyway, I'm not the only one out in the rain for no reason."

Lea raked his damp hair, which now stuck to the sides of his face. "I was running away from the apparent solution to my problems." He shrugged. "I come here looking for a new life, it gets handed to me on a silver platter and you know what? I can't take it."

"Perhaps it's too much change at once," Saix pointed out. "You need something to keep you grounded, like a float in the ocean. Without that base, the urge to run away is understandable."

"You're looking too deeply into it. It's more the case that I can't fit in somewhere so normal. So far, in this town of smug mayoral candidates, overly friendly neighbours inviting me to tea and pregnant wives with homemade cake, the only person I actually felt comfortable around was a little girl. So I'm still the immature fucker I'm desperate not to be." He folded his arms behind his head as he walked; it was a habit he had picked up from his toddler years. "You might be right, though. Maybe I do need something to ground me. Normally, it would have been my brother, but he's obviously not here. I was hoping my job would have been enough, but it turns out that from tomorrow, I'm a cleaner. A fucking cleaner in a primary school. My boss is apparently a _Cambridge_ graduate and there to remind me how he spent all his years in beneficial education while I was mopping corridors in jail."

"Headmaster Lawrence is nice. He's a good friend of Liam Gardiner but he's a fair man. A little eccentric, though," Saix said.

"Eccentric enough to let a tattooed ex-con hang around impressionable children."

Saix remained unfazed. "I'm sure if the people of Silverkey can accept a cross dresser, they can accept an ex-con."

She seemed to find some amusement in Lea's audible sigh of relief. "Thanks for not making me ask," he said. "That would've been horribly awkward if I had assumed wrong."

Saix loosened Pluto's lead, letting the spaniel run a few feet ahead to sniff the damp grass. She tugged at the zip of her anorak. "Does it bother you?"

Lea shook his head. "You're not the first cross dresser I've met. First good one, though," he added. "Aren't you going to ask me what I was in jail for?"

"Aren't you going to ask me why I cross dress?" Saix returned.

He laughed through his nose. "All right," he smiled. "We'll avoid the things we're clearly dying to find out about. Well, I'd settle for just your number."

Saix bit her lip thoughtfully, and Lea tugged his collar without realising he'd even done it. "Okay," she said. "Then pass me your hand."

He watched silently – he was convinced that if he spoke, she'd change her mind – as she wrote a line of numbers below the hills of his knuckles, her fingers on his sleeve. She had written a landline number. "I don't actually have my own phone," she said, crossing the sevens. "…I'm a long story and if I have to be honest, I'm strange."

"Yeah?" Lea took the pen and held her cold hand. He made a hash of writing his number at first, his gaze too busy studying her slim fingers. "Well, I'm very glad to have met you, as strange as you are." He let go of her hand, and he found himself a little dizzy at the sight of her tiny smile in the clearing rain and softening moonlight. "Call me any time."

**-x-**

Aqua Allsands was facing the moon, arm tucked under her head and fingers skirting the squares of light. She didn't want to go to sleep, because she could still hear the twins laughing. Their giggles reverberated through her, and she felt warm, the way she had felt when they had nudged her hello all those years ago inside the swell of her stomach.

"Why are they laughing?" Xemnas muttered into his pillow.

Aqua rolled over so that he was in her peripheral vision. "They've snuck Pluto into their room and think I don't know."

Xemnas groaned. "They're going to be crying in the morning when the bloody dog's pissed on their bed."

"Pluto's housebroken," she corrected. "Saix and I trained him."

"Shit," said Xemnas.

"That too – all outside. It's amazing how quickly positive reinforcement—"

"No, no, shit!" He sat up in bed, raking his messy brown hair. "Was it the fifth today?"

"All day."

"Shit!" Xemnas said again. "Lea Murphy moved in today. Why didn't you remind me?"

Aqua surveyed his stark shadow. Xemnas fisted his hair and turned round to prompt an answer. "You wouldn't have had time to visit," she reasoned. "Besides, you're not going to be showing your best side all the while Liam's around."

"I bet he treated Lea to the whole spiel," Xemnas seethed. "From a farmhouse dinner party to that vulture of a girlfriend." He flopped back into bed, and Aqua shifted to keep the gap between them. She longed to sift through the strands of mahogany until she had a forehead to kiss but instead, she locked her fingers over her stomach and stared up at the ceiling.

"Lea will surely appreciate someone who isn't as overbearing," she said. "In any case, the matter is hardly solved that quickly. Swinging the town to your side via Lea isn't like climbing a mountain and putting up a flag once you get there; it will take time."

Aqua heaved herself out of bed and grabbed her dressing gown. "I'll be back in a minute," she said, although she knew Xemnas didn't care for this at all.

She padded down the landing, deliberately leaving the light off so they wouldn't catch her smiling. She opened the bedroom door and Pluto leapt off the closest bed to bound out the room.

"Roxas and Ventus," she whispered loudly. She could make out their silhouettes in the dark, sat up and covering their mouths to keep in their giggles. Most of their pillows had found their way to the floor. "Bedtime, now! You have school tomorrow. Not one more sound!"

She shut the door and looked round to see where Pluto had scampered off to. Then, she caught the sliver of light downstairs at the porch. Aqua leaned across the banister. "Saix, is that you?"

"No, it's me." The hallway light clicked on, and Isa LeFévre craned his neck up to meet her gaze, taking out Saix's contact lenses at the same time. "Aqua, who the hell is Lea? Only I have his number on my hand."

 


	2. Chapter 2

The Allsands family lived in a five bedroom gablefront house, with a columned veranda wrapped round three sides and a swimming pool in the garden. Xemnas and Aqua had spent much of their married life turning their house into a home, but it was a far cry from the comfort of Isa LeFévre's flat at the other end of town.

He sat awkwardly in the dining room, where the circular table ensured there was no escape from conversation. Isa had Xemnas on one side – he liked to drone on about every article in the morning paper – and Ven on the other, who had a whole night's worth of hyperactivity to burn.

Xemnas folded up his paper and rubbed his left wrist, before giving a small cough. Isa supposed this surreptitious behaviour was aimed at him. "So…you piqued Lea's interest."

He looked up from his cereal mulishly. "I didn't; Saix did. And before you ask, no, I don't know what she said or how she represented the Allsands family, so I can't help you in your political campaign."

Xemnas rolled his eyes to the heavens, the way most people felt inclined to do when they were with Isa. "I wasn't going to ask that," he said. "I was about to suggest you explain yourself to Lea."

"That's a good idea. For all we know, Lea's waiting for Saix to call." Aqua was busy snapping yoghurts and bread, filling up the surface as though it was a gingham blemish she had to erase. Isa could see her eyes were red and her lashes clumped together, even if Xemnas couldn't. She sat down and began to butter Ven's toast for him. "Inspector Leonhart said he's going to work at school as a cleaner. You boys might see him around."

"If you do, you'll be polite and civil," said Xemnas, imagining the twins' concurrence and finding it sufficient. "He has an important part to play in the campaign and I'm sure you need little reminding that it is of utmost importance that we win this election."

"I like our family as it is now," Ven said. He was swinging his feet, disturbing the tablecloth. "I don't see why being a Mayor is so important."

"You're still young to understand that," Aqua said. She leaned across to stroke Ven's hair and subtly, prompted him to stop being so restless in his seat.

Nevertheless, Isa thought Ven, for all his shortcomings as a spaced out nine-year-old, had a very fair point. Xemnas was a successful businessman and head of a company that organised corporate events. The Allsands were rich and successful, which made the ambition for Mayor a little redundant. It wasn't as though Xemnas was campaigning in an honest homage to his late father-in-law, nor was the swanky new job going to repair the other faults in the family. It seemed a fruitless mission to everyone but Xemnas, yet by wordless agreement, the Allsands had collectively embarked on their campaign to seize it the moment Xemnas had thought up of it.

"Isa, you'll explain your situation to Lea. If you pick up the boys from music club today, you can stop by and clear up the matter."

"Fine." Isa got out of his seat with a scowl.

"I haven't finished talking."

"Course you haven't," Isa uttered. He sat back down, and Roxas threw a quick grin at him.

"How we as a family are perceived is crucial for our campaign to succeed," said Xemnas. "Lea Murphy is a new resident to Silverkey, a clean and unbiased slate with extraordinary control over which way the votes will swing. I am not going to lose him to the likes of Liam Gardiner, purely because you cannot control your impertinence; so, if you know what's good for you, behave yourself."

"Please," Aqua added for him. "We're all doing our bit."

It was only because of this that Isa relented. Aqua had a morning tea appointment with Arlene today; by comparison, Isa hadn't been asked for much at all. He took a deep breath and tried to twist his grimace into something more acceptable. "Fine, I'll find him after school."

**-x-**

Dad drove the family car to the school gates and checked his watch. "Can you postpone my nine o' clock meeting; I'm going to be late. Yes, I know." His earpiece glowed a pulsing blue. "One of my sons was running late. Oh, I had an email last night with an amended agenda for Lanagan. Boys, we're here," he added. "I'll need hard copies."

Roxas got out of the car and waited impatiently as Ven stood up to kiss Dad's cheek. "Bye Dad!"

"He shouldn't talk whilst driving," Roxas remarked.

"Mum says as long as he uses that ear thing, it's okay." Ven slotted his arms through his bag pack and shuffled his feet so that they walked left, right, left together. Roxas considered throwing Ven off, just to rile him up, but his brother didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of his frustration. Ven hadn't been wrong today; Dad had.

Mum was really upset this morning, and because Saix wasn't around, it should have been down to Dad to cheer her up. Sometimes, Roxas and Ven's hugs weren't enough; sometimes, Mum needed to talk to an adult about Granddad.

"There's Xion," said Roxas. He waved to her, and Xion kissed her dad goodbye. She ducked past clusters of older children and caught up to them. It was always obvious when Xion was around, as every zip on her bag was decorated with key chains that jangled and rang like the tiny wind chimes Granddad used to have.

"Hi," she greeted. Ven made a gurgled sound in his throat, as though he was trying to restrain himself from getting the giggles. He hugged Xion and exclaimed, "You're wearing it! Look, Roxas, it suits her, doesn't it?"

Roxas followed Ven's gaze to the top of Xion's head, where he saw the thin, sparkling alice band. Ven had crafted it with spare material from Mum, in the hopes of creating something good enough to sell on _Monochrome Chât_. In the end, Xion's dad got a laugh out of it and bought it for a pound and now, Ven thought he was on his way to becoming an entrepreneur.

Roxas muttered a standard compliment and looked past them towards the school gates. Xion followed his gaze and dropped her voice. "Oh. Um…she was here before me; she's been like that the whole time."

Naminé Goldsmith-Gardiner was in floods of tears; Mr Gardiner was trying his hardest to comfort her, while Mr Friday and the headmaster, Mr Lawrence, tried to assist.

"It's okay, baby; you don't have to go to school if you don't want to," said Mr Gardiner. He was sat on his haunches, his voice soft, but Roxas could see him gripping the material over his knees in stress.

"If you're poorly, Naminé, you're more than welcome to stay in the nurse's office for some time out," said Mr Lawrence. He stroked his beard and then added, "Or perhaps mine? I brought my pet snail in over the weekend; I find it's quite therapeutic watching it—"

"With all due respect, Sir," Mr Friday cut in, "I don't think that snail should have been mentioned, let alone be suggested as a remedy."

"Quite right."

"I'll take her home. She's probably just tired; we had a busy day yesterday and she didn't sleep well." Mr Gardiner stood up, sighing. Roxas didn't fail to spot the way he held Naminé against his side and buried his fingers in her hair. Dad always had nasty things to say about Mr Gardiner, but quite often, Roxas didn't agree.

"Let's not give up completely," said Mr Friday. As he was quite short anyway, he only had to bend a little to reach Naminé's height. "Why don't we go to the library for a bit?"

Roxas took a deep breath; Ven nudged his ribs. "Come on, Roxas, we should go inside."

He let his brother lead him away. Roxas sent a smile Naminé's way, but she was too buried in her father's coat to receive it.

**-x-**

To Lea's dismay, his single and best work shirt had been crammed between his portable speakers and his trainers. It seemed the kinks it had acquired during its journey to Silverkey were adamant about staying. Refusing to admit defeat, Lea straightened out the shirt on the landing; he upturned an edge table and put it on top, before weighing it down with a heavy vase.

When he woke up the next morning, the first thing on his mind was that blasted shirt. He ran to check up on it and cringed when he discovered it still looked like it had been through a trash compactor overnight.

He walked back to his room and headed into the en suite to shower. He watched as the line of numbers on his left hand faded in the warm water to just a sliver of a memory. Lea had typed Saix's number into his phone as soon as he got home; he had long memorised the digits. Somehow, Saix had managed to sit somewhere permanent in his mind, with only fifteen minutes and a missing dog.

Lea paired his crinkled shirt with dark skinny jeans and a scarf. He had no time to shave and his tattoos peeked out from both sleeves and his collar. To put no finer point on it, he looked like he had been dragged through a hedge backwards, and he had to hand it to Ienzo Friday not to give up there and then when Lea showed up at Silverkey Primary School looking like that.

Lea took a deep drag from his cigarette for courage and crossed the playground to shake his hand at the main entrance. "Hi. Lea Murphy."

"Ienzo Friday," he returned. Ienzo himself was surprisingly fresh faced, whose youthful appearance didn't quite match the dark grey suit and waistcoat an aging professor might have worn to church. "Let's head in. I must politely remind you the school has a strict no smoking policy."

 "Course. Cool." Lea chucked the cigarette to the rounded steps of the entrance and squashed it. "I'm not addicted, no worries; it's more a social activity for me. Actually, I just smoke when I'm nervous."

Ienzo eyed the butt, the way someone might to a fly in the kitchen. Quickly, Lea picked it up, and Ienzo gave a tiny nod of stuffy approval. He gestured to the litter bin outside the doors. "If you follow me, I'll show you round the school and explain what your job entails."

Ienzo began a slow and formal tour of the front reception and its left wing. Lea tried to mirror Ienzo's solemn look of respect. "This is Silverkey's only school," said Ienzo, raking his slate-coloured hair in again, the same fashion as an elderly man. "There are three secondary schools in the next town along. It's only a small school, but we do take great pride in it. We have twelve teachers and approximately two hundred students." Here, Ienzo smiled for the first time. "I'm sure you can imagine just how much cleaning this school will require."

They turned left to a weighted door, labelled up as the utility room. "Your work hours are the standard nine to five, and you will operate primarily from here."

Ienzo clearly didn't think much of the utility room, given his wrinkled nose, but Lea was quick to like it. While it was large, it was predominantly filled with a lot of organised clutter. There was a coffee machine and mini kitchen in one corner, three armchairs in another and in the furthest corner from Lea, there was a pair of trolleys. They were loaded with cleaning tools and at their forefront, dancing in the square of sunlight from the single window, was a teenager with enormous headphones clamped round him.

Ienzo pursed his lips and folded his arms. "Myde Sherman," he introduced. "He's the school's other cleaner. You are supposed to go half and half on the work but I guarantee it will not end up that way. Myde!" Ienzo strode up to him and pulled off the headphones. "This is Lea Murphy."

Myde broke into a big grin. "All right, a colleague!" he said. "Awesome. I'm Myde. Great tattoos."

Lea studied his left arm. "Thanks."

"Myde can assist you with the specifics," said Ienzo. "Essentially, you are required to maintain a state of cleanliness throughout the school without disrupting the day. I'll leave you with the job specification and a map of the school for your reference. When you finish at five o'clock, report to the Headmaster's office as he'd like to meet you. Any questions?"

"Not yet. Though if I do get stuck, can I ask you for help and if so, where can I find you?"

"My office is on the second floor, and as the school's deputy headmaster, I am always available to help."

Lea couldn't disguise his curious stare of disbelief. "Fuck, you're the deputy? I had you down as an assistant at most!"

"It's a common mistake," Ienzo said politely, although his voice was a little frosty. "By the way, do note that school staff refrain from using the F word or any other form of bad language. You are to be a respectable adult."

Ienzo gave a stiff nod to convey his goodbye and left, leaving only Myde for company. "Sometimes it's easier just to switch off and keep the job that way." Myde gestured to his headphones.  "So, want me to explain what disinfectant we use where?"

**-x-**

Naminé couldn't believe she had cried so much, and in front of that many people as well. She was upset and angry with herself, but Daddy, instead of telling her off for embarrassing their family, had tried to make her feel better by letting her go to the library with Mr Friday, and Naminé felt worse for it.

The campaign for Mayor was important; Naminé knew that. Daddy was desperate to win, and that was why he worked hard to be everyone's friend, and he couldn't do that if he was too busy worrying about her.  She wished she hadn't seen the bird; she wished it didn't affect her so much. It was dead, and of course animals died, that sometimes it was all just a horrible accident and yet, the _room_ wriggled back into existence.

She couldn't concentrate in lessons. It took every ounce of effort to stop colouring the squares in her maths book and listen to Mr Friday talk about fractions. She liked Mr Friday. He wasn't too tall and looked too young to be a teacher; sometimes, Naminé wondered how old he really was. Mr Friday didn't smile very much, but he was kind enough to rank as her favourite teacher.

Of course, Mr Friday was always nice to her. She was the daughter of the candidate Headmaster Lawrence supported, so Mr Friday didn't have much choice.

Naminé began to copy what Mr Friday had up on the board. Her hand shook with the acknowledgement she didn't understand what she was writing, of sums and stories about numbers that weren't whole.

Kairi, sat to her right, didn't have any books out at all. She had one foot tucked behind the other and hands in her lap (this was how proper ladies sat, Mummy had said once); today, she had styled her hair into a ponytail on one side of her head.

Naminé wished she had red hair like Kairi. Instead, she had thin blonde hair like Mummy. Mummy could brush hers into something beautiful, though, and she had bright green eyes and dark red lips. She wore a lot of black and whenever Naminé went out shopping with her, she could see heads turning in admiration. "I don't know why. She looks like a murderous wasp most of the time," was Daddy's favourite joke about her.

Naminé, however, was horribly pale, and her school uniform was a checked yellow. There was nothing remarkable that made her stand out. On most days, she looked like a tired canary, ready to slip into whitewashed walls and disappear. Her classmates called her a ghost, and sometimes, she believed them.

"How are you doing with the exercises?" Mr Friday stopped by her desk and frowned a little when he saw she hadn't even opened her textbook. He didn't tell her off; Naminé half-wished he had.  "Here, have a go at a few of these questions, and put your hand up if you get stuck."

"Yes, Mr Friday." She pulled the textbook towards her and tried to keep in her sigh. She hated maths for its cruel criteria of having a definite right and wrong, of being black and white and nothing in between.

"I'll help you." Kairi smiled at her, hands reaching out to point to the first question. She wore a lot of pink. Her bag was a splash of pastels, the same design Naminé had seen once on television.

Naminé liked colour and now, being with Kairi was as close as she could get to it.

**-x-**

When it finally hit 5.00pm, Lea said goodbye to Myde and used his school map to find the Headmaster's office. His back ached from the copious amounts of vacuuming and sweeping, and he was quite certain that Myde had skewed the workload to give himself an easier life. Lea didn't complain, though. He liked the constant stream of work and duties, and it wasn't too isolating a job either. Over the course of his first day, he met three other staff members besides Mr Friday: Vincent Valentine, a reserved music teacher who looked ridiculously youthful for someone over forty; Rinoa Heartilly, the school's English teacher, who cheekily corrected Lea's _I weren't_ to _I wasn't_ ; and lastly, Yuffie Kisaragi, a young and boisterous teaching assistant who worked in PE.

Unlike these three, meeting Ludor Lawrence was daunting and somewhat jarring. Walking into his office was like taking a wrong turning and feeling your body lurch at the sudden and unexpected surroundings. Lea went from baby blue corridors decorated with class projects to a grand, rectangular room with a large bay window. Ludor's office was so tidy, Lea wondered if he even used it. Headmaster Lawrence clearly had a fondness for old things, for most of his furniture was oak-crafted and all of his decorative items could have fetched a fortune at an antiques road show. In the quick glance before Ludor stood up to welcome him in, Lea spotted china vases, a display box of cigars and a series of glass paperweights. When they shook hands, Lea swore he could smell whiskey.

"Ludor Lawrence," he introduced himself. He was tall and elegant, with a neatly trimmed beard and bright blue eyes. Lea thought he wouldn't look too out of place in a castle in the Scottish highlands. "I trust you've had a good first day?"

"Yes, Sir. Ienzo was really helpful this morning."

"Please, let's stick to first names," said Ludor. He gestured for Lea to sit down, but he himself crossed the room to shred some leaves. Ludor had a large tank on a waist-height cabinet which, save for the small plants and soil, was completely empty. It was only when Ludor moved away that Lea saw the slightest movement and spotted a giant snail on one of the logs. "I won't keep you long," said Ludor. His leather chair squeaked as he sat down and steeped his fingers. "Inspector Leonhart thought it prudent to supply me with your criminal record before I agreed to employ you. Given your contract with this school, I hope I make clear how unbothered I am by your colourful past."

Lea rubbed his left arm awkwardly. "…Thanks, I guess. I appreciate the chance."

"Of course, any toe out of line will prompt an immediate dismissal," Ludor said easily, "but I trust you're here in Silverkey to start afresh. I admire that courage, that nerve to challenge the clean slate and make something better of it. However, perhaps I can give you some free advice?"

Ludor didn't give him time to answer. "I'm certainly not asking you to be ashamed of your past, but it would be wise for you to think carefully about disclosing it. So far, only Inspector Leonhart, your landlords the Goldsmith-Gardiners and I have knowledge of it. Silverkey, unfortunately, is notorious for how it thrives on gossip. We've lost many residents through callous talk alone."

"Trust me, I'm in no hurry to talk about it anyway," Lea said. "Thanks for warning me; I'll be careful."

Nervously, he recalled his familiarity with jail was actually one of the first things he had revealed about himself to Saix. He hoped this moment of vulnerability – born from the mere sight of her – would not come back to bite him on the arse.

"Generally speaking, the residents of Silverkey are very pleasant. However, the townspeople are an isolated lot and oftentimes they know no better than what is standard or uniform. It might be difficult to break through their assumptions."

"I understand." Ludor meant well, but Lea did have to wonder what a Cambridge graduate could possibly know about being mistakenly judged. He thanked Ludor for his concern and left the school, suddenly feeling worse for wear.

He bolted for the school gates as though he was still a kid himself, although his rush was for the not very innocent desire to light up a cigarette. No sooner than he did, though, did a small boy run up to him with a loud, "Whoa…!" He couldn't have been much older than eight. "L-look at your arm! Is it real?"

"What, my _arm_?"

"No, the tattoo!"

Lea grinned, circling his shoulder. "Yeah, it's real."

"You're covered in them," the boy said. He walked round Lea to inspect him. "I'm Ventus by the way, but everyone calls me Ven. That's Roxas."

Lea looked past Ven to see his identical – albeit surlier – twin, who was holding a violin case. Ven finished his introductions by jumping up and down and hugging an unimpressed Roxas. "And that's Isa. He hates you."

Lea's breath hitched.

Isa was tall, thin and, save for the angry look on his face, a dead ringer for Saix if she wasn't cross-dressing. Isa had the same hair as Saix; it was loose, but definitely the right length. The face too – same eyes in different colours, same nose, same slightly parted lips, pale skin and long lashes. The posture and mannerisms, however, were completely off. Saix had been fidgety, anxious – she had knocked her heels together and hid behind the large collar of her anorak; Isa stood with his jaw squared and arms folded, as though he was either in a permanent staring contest or his joints had been bound by duct tape.

With enough concentration, he could work out how Roxas and Ven were fundamentally different in makeup. Roxas' eyes were closer together; Ven had clearer freckles on his nose. Through this quick exercise, Lea knew Isa and Saix were not twins. He didn't know what the hell they were, but they certainly weren't separate people.

"Hello again," said Lea.

Isa stared at him, mouth open in offense as though Lea had just shouted abuse at him. "Excuse me?  What the—? I've never seen you before in my life!"

The voice too – different. Tetchy, sharp, with an impressive ability to switch from a mutter to a screech. Isa glared at him, studied him up and down.

"You're staring," Lea said blandly.

"You are too! Why do you have so many tattoos?" Isa barked at him. He seemed most offended by the giant phoenix tattoo on Lea's arm, the same one Ven was now examining up close. "They're a mark of unprofessionalism; you should cover them up. Shame you got tattooed in stupid places."

"Most of them _are_ covered up," Lea answered.

"What a half-arsed job!" Isa snapped.

He shrugged in response. "Am I safe to introduce myself?" He held out his hand. "Lea Murphy."

Isa chewed his lip in frustration. He offered a quick handshake. "Isaiah LeFévre."

Lea nodded to Roxas and Ven. "Do you have a twin too?"

Isa pulled a face as though Lea had just smacked him with a cattle prod. "Of course I don't!"

"Okay, I just thought—well, Saix looks an awful lot like you. Plus, same surname, you know?"

Isa flushed. Roxas and Ven looked between them interestedly. "She's a disorder," he muttered. He had dropped his voice so low, Lea wasn't certain he was supposed to hear it. Isa cleared his throat and stood with his back straight.

"Saix isn't a person," he said clearly. "She's a disorder. My disorder. So just…I don't know, leave it there and get your kicks somewhere else." He nodded for emphasis.

"Kicks?" Lea repeated. "Disorder? Look, you've completely lost me."

"Well, I assume you're desperate, scrawling your mobile number on the first person you see, not to mention the dirty biker look you have going there," said Isa. "Clearly, you're insecure and vying for some attention, but seriously, don't get it from Saix."

Lea laughed in shock. "Dude, I'm not a biker. What the—? Look, Isa, I don't think—"

"Isaiah," he butted in. "You don't know me; don't use my nickname."

"Isaiah," he amended heavily, "you've got the wrong end of the stick, about me and Saix. We're just friends."

"Yeah right."

"We're friends; why would it be anything more?"

Isa gave a glare that glinted with a little triumph, as though Lea had unwittingly wandered into a checkmate. "Yes, why would it be anything more. Cross dressers could never be anything more."

"Great. So I'm filthy biker with tattoos who's desperate for attention and you're one of those people whose hobby is being offended by everything. We're going to get on well."

"We don't need to get on well," Isa retorted. "If you just give up on Saix, that's the problem sorted and we don't ever need to speak to one another again."

Lea shook his head and folded his arms behind his head. He thought Roxas and Ven might try to intervene – didn't all children hate adults fighting? – but they seemed rather accustomed to the situation. "Look, Isaiah. I only came to Silverkey last night; I drove through a shit storm of rain with only a quarter of my stuff. Previously, I had been living in my _car_ for a fortnight, visiting the same Internet café every day, trying to get a new place, a way out. Point is, I wrote my number on Saix's hand because my life has jack shit in it and I'm as lonely as fuck. You say she ain't a person, but she was a person enough for me. She's my friend; who's she to you?"

Isa's frown tightened. "Does it matter—"

"And how do you know Saix is okay with you cutting us off? Did she explicitly tell you that, or even agree to it?" Lea caught Isa's sneer at this, as if that was his automatic response to any mention of Saix. "Because I'd rather she told me in person as opposed to her lookalike defender, who clearly has some cognitive issues if he thinks those white jeans are doing him any favours."

"Y-you little obnoxious—!" Isa spluttered, but he struggled to finish his sentence. He flushed a deep red and staggered away from him. Lea snorted at the overreaction and waved a hand.

"I'm kidding, man; you're just easy to rile up." He grinned. "What about a drink one evening? I can explain why I look so filthy and you can tell me what your problem is with the world."

"Seriously? Do you hit on everything that moves?" Isa barged past him, seizing Roxas' shoulder to prompt a brisk walk. Ven followed automatically. "We're leaving," said Isa, nearly tripping over Roxas' violin case. He spared one more glare for Lea. "Stay away from me and Saix. Come near us again, and I'll break your face."

He stormed down the road, ignoring Ven's protests that sounded something like, "You promised Mum…!"

Lea let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding in. His heart hammered against his ribcage. "I wasn't hitting on you," he said, a second before he realised he was.


	3. Chapter 3

Silverkey Cemetery was on the outskirts of town, just before the coppices and marshlands began. Like most cemeteries, it was quiet and deserted, and only remembered on sad occasions and anniversaries. It rarely saw visitors, but Aqua Allsands was a frequent one.

Dilan Haugen was sweeping the cemetery's main path when Mrs Allsands edged through the gate with the family's cocker spaniel. Of course, dogs weren't really allowed in the cemetery, but Dilan made an exception for Aqua. For one thing, her sons were best friends with his daughter, Xion, who loved that dog. In addition, Aqua was a Mayoral candidate's wife; Dilan was certainly in no hurry to tick off a man who was one announcement away from striking gold. The last thing about Aqua, that made Dilan grit his teeth and pretend he was more than happy to have a mutt in his spotless cemetery, was the fact she was grieving – more than the town cared to know.

Former Mayor Eraqus Liang had died six months ago. Dilan had made all the funeral arrangements himself, from digging a beautiful grave spot under a cherry tree to helping choose the right headstone. Dilan knew most families through death; he saw them at their weakest, when not even a lifetime's practice of wearing a mask could smooth over the loss. Aqua was talented enough to fool the rest of Silverkey, but Dilan Haugen knew when someone had lost more than a father.

Aqua crossed the damp stretch of grass and set down more flowers at Eraqus' grave. She only managed a nod in greeting at first, and then she stuttered out, "Good morning, Dilan."

"Good morning, Mrs Allsands." Dilan leaned on his broom and eyed Pluto warily. The spaniel was walking round in circles as much as his lead would let him. Dilan's childhood dog used to do that when it was ready for a crap. "How are you?"

"Oh…the same, really," she answered, apparently unused to the question. "Isa's being a pain in the backside, but that's nothing new." Aqua touched the headstone and stood up. She rearranged her face into something businesslike, and Dilan thought she had probably been taking lessons from Xemnas. "I'm okay," she finished. "I have a lot of things keeping me busy."

"One might argue that's a problem, not a consolation," said Dilan.

Aqua said nothing for a moment, quietly accepting his reasoning. Then, she twisted her fingers round Pluto's lead and said, "Are you coming to the gathering on Friday?"

Social parties were not really Dilan's cup of tea. He was more of a pub goer, where he could have a beer and a plate of chips and freely tell people to shut their trap because he was watching the football. The gathering on Friday was a capability display from both Mayoral candidates, disguised as a welcome party for the new bloke, Lee something or another. Dilan was getting sick of seeing Xemnas' green badges and Liam Gardiner's pink rosettes; he was sick of listening to the charismatic bullshit they spouted to win votes, like two fat chickens squabbling over the comfiest spot of hay. However, this was Silverkey's current way of life. Like Aqua, the village was in a rut after losing Eraqus; the least Dilan could do was help drag it out of the ditch and into the sun.

"I could spare an hour or two," he replied. Aqua brightened in relief.

"Thank you, Dilan; it'd make such a difference to me."

"So what's he like?" Dilan asked, wondering afterwards if he really cared. "This new guy."

"I haven't met him," said Aqua. She smiled suddenly, a hesitant half-grin that was gone in the blink of an eye. "Ven says he's the coolest person ever and Isa says he's utterly repulsive."

"Standard responses," remarked Dilan. Pluto walked in a circle around him and Aqua hastily disentangled the lead.

"Lea met Saix before he met Isa. Roxas says all Isa did was scream at him instead of explain himself. I'll have to visit Lea this lunchtime, I think, before it completely blights Xemnas' campaign."

**-x-**

Lea was beginning to understand why a lot of school staff had looks of great relief when he responded to their calls for service. Apparently, Myde Sherman was about as useful as a chocolate teapot, and any calls made to him for cleanup were either met with static or well rehearsed excuses.

On Lea's second day, Myde managed to delegate and swap corridors and classrooms so that he expertly avoided cleaning anything that required more than fifteen minutes' work. Lea was left mopping up a classroom post-papier mache and by lunchtime, Mr Valentine had called him and asked if he could clean up some kid's barf.

Myde wasn't just professionally lazy; he was also sluggish on knowledge. He was either the most uninformed person in Silverkey, or he simply didn't care about what went on around him.

"I thought the campaign was quite the hot topic in Silverkey," Lea said, pinging one plastic glove against his wrist. "Doesn't everyone have a side?"

"Maybe." Myde slotted his headphones round his neck and began to reply to a text on his phone. "I dunno, it hasn't bothered me. I reckon it'd be same thing whoever you vote for. My parents root for Xemnas Allsands."

"What's Xemnas like?"

"I dunno, really."

"Come on, man, I'm blind in this village." Lea began to spray a liberal amount of detergent on a sink that had grown lime scale overnight. "Surely you've got some gossip?"

Myde furrowed his eyebrows. "The only thing I know about Xemnas Allsands is that he's bloody rich. That and he's not a true Silverkey resident – you know, someone who grew up here. The Allsands came to Silverkey about ten years ago, and that was when Xemnas' father-in-law, Eraqus Liang, became Mayor. He died a few months back; that's why this campaign's kicked off. My parents go on about how Xemnas is 'right' for the job and Liam's just a farmer with an inflated ego."

Myde sat down opposite Lea; he seemed keen to be left alone with his music. "I don't bother with it myself, like I said. There's too much politics involved."

"What if you're caught up in it right from the beginning?" Lea said, thinking of his first meeting with Liam Gardiner, which pulled him one way, only to be yanked to the other side by Saix LeFévre. He should have guessed Myde's response.

"I dunno, really."

**-x-**

Aqua could hear Silverkey Primary School long before she reached the gates. The screams of children playing tag bounced down the green avenue, and Aqua wondered if somewhere in the muddle of sounds, she was hearing Roxas and Ven. The building itself was deathly quiet, to the point that as soon as the double doors swung shut behind her, it was like sticking her head underwater.

The receptionist handed her a visitor's badge and directed her to the maintenance room. Aqua supposed that being the wife of a Mayoral candidate granted her special privileges. She pushed open the heavy door and sidled in with a small cough to announce herself. She wasn't surprised to see Myde in the corner, oblivious to the world while listening to his music at full blast. Aqua glanced to her left and saw a thin man covered in tattoos at the coffee table, a pencil between his teeth. He was studying the town map of Silverkey.

"Oh…uh, hello?" She clutched the straps of her handbag, half expecting the tattooed man to leap up and snatch it. "I'm ever so sorry to disturb you during your lunch break; are you Lea Murphy?"

"Yeah I am." He stood up, smoothed his front. "Are you staff? Sorry, it's only my first week."

They shook hands. "I'm Aqua Allsands," she introduced. "I believe you met my twins the day before yesterday."

"Roxas and Ven?" said Lea. "They're really great."

"You had the pleasure of meeting Isa, too," she said. She smiled at Lea's tired grin and the way his hand shot to rub the back of his head uncomfortably.

"Oh yeah, that oversensitive nightmare. Shit, is he your son too? No way," he said, before Aqua could answer. "You look too young to be his mum."

Aqua laughed. "No, I know Isa through my husband. I do look after Isa, though, so perhaps he is a son in some way. Is now convenient for a quick chat?"

"Sure," Lea said. He seemed eager for company. "Hey, you want a coffee? I worked out how to use our espresso machine; I've been on a caffeine rush since this morning."

Aqua asked for a latte and loosened her light scarf. She had heard from Ven that Lea was 'covered in pictures' but she hadn't expected him to be so illustrative of delinquency. Lea reeked of cigarettes and had a strong Estuary accent; he clearly didn't know how to iron his clothes, and there were stains all down them. He had pushed his hair back with a sweatband and Aqua could make out the dark silhouette of a large tattoo on his back through his shirt. Lea would not have looked out of place on a police station's wanted board.

She felt nervous, but as a natural observer of small details, she noticed other things about Lea. When getting the coffee, he checked her cup was clean and angled the handle towards her. She also noticed how he took the rickety stool and insisted she take the armchair. These actions left a stronger mark than the ink on his skin.

"I wanted to talk to you about Isa," she said, thanking him for the coffee. "Isa was supposed to explain his situation himself, but I don't think you got off on the right foot."

One corner of Lea's mouth tugged into a frown. "He seemed adamant that I stay away from him and Saix. Which I can do, i-if that's what you're here to tell me?"

Aqua shook her head. "Not at all. I just need to make it clear to you that um…Isa _is_ Saix." She nodded a little for emphasis and gave Lea a few moments for the fact to settle into his reality. Lea, however, didn't seem surprised.

"So…Saix is like…a hobby, maybe?" he tried. "S'okay, I came across weird stuff all the time in London."

"Isa isn't weird."

"No, of course," Lea said quickly. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant."

"But his circumstances are unusual," Aqua amended. "Since you've made friends with Saix, it's necessary that I explain these circumstances."

"Sure," said Lea.

"Twelve years ago, Wiltshire police broke a major paedophile and trafficking ring. My father, Eraqus Liang, worked closely with the police as a psychiatrist, and Isa was one of two victims he rescued and treated. Over the course of two years, my father rebuilt Isa, effectively halving his heart into two and letting the trauma slide into the nothingness between. It's difficult to explain," she admitted, "but in essence, Saix exists as a foil for the emotional trauma from Isa's childhood."

Lea stared into his coffee. "Shit," was all he could say.

"If you imagine a car is representative of your body and brain – everything about you except your soul. Isa will be in the driver's seat one day; he'll take it out for a spin, park somewhere and get out of it for a while. Saix will do the same thing; she'll assume control and take it out for a drive. The point is that they're never in the car at the same time." Aqua set down her coffee cup. "As the original self, Isa is fully aware that Saix exists, though he has no memory of what she does during her active time; Saix, on the other hand, has no idea about Isa. She doesn't know she's an alter, a secondary female personality designed to be a coping mechanism for Isa. While her mind forms its own barriers to drive away any suspicions about the truth, we refrain from provoking her. As far as she's concerned, she's a normal person prone to extended sessions of deep sleep, but the town looks out for her; we'd like to keep it that way if possible."

Lea nodded slowly. "So basically, I treat them both as separate people and on top of that, I don't mention Isa to Saix."

"Yes, that's right. I'd be very grateful for your cooperation," Aqua replied. "The other thing I wanted to tell you about was that Xemnas and Liam have organised an evening on Friday at the village hall. It's a welcome party of sorts for you."

"For me?" Lea repeated. He pulled a strange face, as if he was waiting for the punch line of a joke. "I wasn't expecting anything like that. I'd love to come along, and to meet your husband too."

Aqua forced herself to smile. "Uh…I-I should go, really. I have a lot of things to do." She stood up too quickly, in a fluster, and before she knew it, her bag hit the floor with an audible crash. "Shit," she hissed.

"Here," said Lea, and he bent down to help pick up her things. He handed over her diary and keys, and then he let out a quiet, "Huh," when he picked up a small pair of scissors. He grinned lightly at her. "Did Isa tell you I was a psychopath or something?"

"Oh no, that's...I always take scissors with me. It's what I do." She snatched the scissors and buried them in her handbag. "…I run an online art store. I cut paper into shapes, and I really shouldn't talk about it to you—"

"And those are your cards?" said Lea, pointing to the sky blue laminates in Aqua's hands.

"Y-yes, I guess. It's only our first meeting, Lea; I shouldn't force my business upon you. What kind of impression would that be?"

"I think this town should focus less on impressions and more on solid facts," Lea returned easily. He disarmed her with a lopsided grin, one that suggested he was seeing beyond the iron façade of a complacent wife she fought to uphold. She stowed away her business cards before they revealed anything else about her.

"Careful, that kind of thinking may get you in trouble." She took a small breath. "In Silverkey, as long as we maintain a socially acceptable front, our secrets remain intact."

"What secrets?"

Aqua clenched her handbag and smiled hollowly. "Mr Murphy, you don't really think you're the only one who came to Silverkey to run away?"

**-x-**

It was always assumed that being identical twins, Ventus and Roxas Allsands distinguished themselves by behaving the complete opposite to one another. The people of Silverkey made it sound like it was something they did on purpose, but it was merely coincidence that Roxas was quiet but blunt while Ven was loud and admiring. Mum always said that she and Roxas were similar, and Ven was just like Dad.

Ven found that because of this assumption, people were always surprised when he proved himself not to be a complete dunce. Ven was more prone to making mistakes, forgetting things and getting bad grades, but it didn't mean he was stupid. Ven had simply found his calling was beyond schoolbooks and his destiny was, in fact, to lasso Mum's dreams for her because she was so technologically illiterate. Ven was smart enough to find Mum's business card template on her laptop and copy it to his USB meant for school; from there, he had successfully improved it and printed out dozens of new cards and handed them out whenever there was an opportunity.

As his mum's secret marketer, Ven knew successful sells were difficult to come by. On most occasions, adults just gave a polite laugh and called him cute because they couldn't see past his age and apparent stupidity. However, Ven wasn't going to let these instances stop him from carrying on. This was all he could do to help Mum.

"Ven, you're not an entrepreneur," said Roxas after school. They were taking a detour out the building because Ven had spotted Lea Murphy sweeping up the playground. "I bet you don't even know how to spell that word."

"I don't need to know how to spell it," Ven replied. He wriggled one arm out of his rucksack's strap and swung the bag forwards. He dug out a business card, but Roxas snatched it off him.

"Ven, getting more customers for Mum's shop isn't going to make any difference. She's not going to miraculously cheer up."

"I know," Ven murmured, "but I can't just do nothing."

He took back the card; Roxas grabbed his arm instead. "Naminé's with him."

Ven looked past Roxas' shoulder to see, on a more careful observation, his brother was absolutely right. Naminé wasn't talking with Lea, but it was unmistakeable that she was in his company. While Lea swept the rubbish from the edge of the playground, where it backed onto the playing field, Naminé was collecting crisp packets and standing on tiptoe to tip them into the rubbish trolley.

"Ven, don't—" Roxas started, but Ven ignored him. He crossed the long stretch of tarmac and waved to them.

"Hello again." Lea grinned at him, pausing in his sweeping and then deciding he had better carry on. "Seriously, when I was your age, I was out of school like a bullet, and I definitely didn't stop by to talk to a cleaner. Won't your mum be wondering where you are?"

"We walk home so there's no rush," Ven explained. He figured Naminé must be hanging around with Lea because her mum was running late. "I wanted to give you something."

He held out Mum's business cards. Lea had a strong smell about him, which reminded him of Grandpa's study. Lea might have let out a sharp breath of approval at the card, but Roxas' loud groan drowned it out. "Come on, Ven, stop embarrassing yourself."

But Lea looked as if he had just been handed a twenty pound note. " _Monochrome Chât_ ," he read. "This is your mum's shop? The paper craft one?"

"Yep! She's a paper artist. Her stuff is really amazing, and I'm not just saying that because she's my mum. Here, look." He dug in his pocket for his phone to show a photo album. He had transferred these images from Mum's computer for marketing purposes too, and they seemed to do the trick.

"Holy hell," said Lea, leaning on his broom and swiping the photos across. "How the fu—I mean, fudge...Wow. That stuff's incredible."

"You can buy her pieces online." Ven pointed to the card. "That's the website there and Mum's business number if you need to ask any questions. If she doesn't pick up, Isa or Saix will."

"Isa?" said Lea. He stopped raking his hair and cleared his throat. "He's uh…" He thought for a second. "How is he?" he opted to say.

"He doesn't stop talking about you," Ven replied. "He keeps going on about how horrible and gross you are."

But Lea, to Ven's surprise, looked as though he had just been told he was more handsome than a supermodel. "Really? He says that? Does he talk a lot about me?"

"I told you, he doesn't stop," Ven said.

Lea grinned and rubbed the back of his head. He studied the business card, fighting to keep control of his smile. "That right?" he murmured.

"It's not a good thing to be called horrible, you know," Ven pointed out.

Still, Lea looked pleased. "Yeah, but he's talking lots about me – now that's flattering. Hey, I'd be talking about him all the time. You know, if I had anyone to talk to."

Ven tilted his head. "Don't you have any friends?" He patted Lea's forearm, mainly to see if the tattoos felt different. "I can be your friend if you like?"

"Thanks, Ven, but I need older friends. You're a bit young."

"Then I'll introduce you to Sora and Vanitas. They're sixteen!"

"Still too young." Lea smiled. "So… _Monochrome Chât_. Isa and Saix work there too, huh?"

"They help run the shop with Mum," said Ven. "Isa manages the website; Saix does the box frames. I thought it'd be nice to show you _Monochrome Chât_ ; your house needs decorating, right? Plus it'd make Mum so happy if she got a new customer."

"You know what, I'll check it out." Lea slotted the business card in his front pocket. "Thanks, Ven. It might just be what I need. My house _is_ plain and I really resent the default flowery pictures Liam Gardiner put up. Oh," he said after a moment. He glanced nervously at Naminé. "Bugger. Uh…don't tell him I slagged off his pictures. It's only because the flowers are orange and look really bad against blue walls…"

But Naminé's lips were pressed tight together, and she might have been biting down on a smile. "…W-we have them at our house too. Mummy hates them."

Looking visibly relieved, Lea turned back to Ven. "I'll check it out," he said again.

"You wouldn't be able to buy anything," said Roxas, speaking up at last. "You haven't got any money; I mean, you're even wearing the same clothes as yesterday."

"Ouch, Roxas," said Lea. "Even if that's true, it doesn't mean I'm dirt poor. I can spare a few bob for a picture."

Ven tried to cover his brother's mouth, but Roxas jerked his head away. "Mum's original pieces start selling at about a hundred pounds," Roxas answered.

"Oh." Lea recovered surprisingly quickly. "Well, I suppose I'll be wearing these clothes for the rest of the week then."

"It's not a laughing matter," Roxas exclaimed, launching into a little squabble. Ven was about to break it up (he was about as effective as a fly pushing apart two tectonic plates) when he felt eyes on him. He shifted his weight to turn on a foot, and he saw Naminé in Lea's shadow, staring determinedly at the school logo embroidered on Ven's shirt. Her hands clenched and unclenched, and then she licked her lips. She looked as though she was mustering the courage to dive into the deep end of a pool. "…M-may we have one too?"

**-x-**

Isa was staring at his computer as it uploaded thirty photos of ridiculous file sizes, bored out of his mind, but it certainly didn't mean he _wanted_ to be interrupted, and by Xemnas nonetheless. He swore under his breath and picked up his vibrating mobile. "I'm busy," he said.

"Funnily enough, so am I." Xemnas' voice was terse, quiet against the background of passing cars. Isa glanced at the clock and surmised Xemnas was calling him while driving home. He wasn't at all surprised that he was a last minute thought on Xemnas' mind, a loose end to tie up half-heartedly. "Aqua fixed your botched job and had a word with Lea. You're lucky he didn't run to Liam Gardiner and ask what kind of freak the Allsands associate themselves with."

Isa got up and opened his door to the balcony, hoping the evening breeze would soothe his temper somewhat. He pressed his lips together, took a deep breath through his nose. "No, _you're_ lucky. I don't give a toss if Lea thinks I'm a freak or not; I've got nothing to do with him."

"Well, that's a lie, isn't it," Xemnas said calmly. "If you're part of the Allsands family, you have everything to do with Lea; or must I remind you who bought the flat you're comfortably residing in at this very moment."

"That'd be Aqua."

"And given that I manage all of Terra's assets—"

Isa clenched his phone and scoffed loudly to drown out the sound of Xemnas' voice. "Aqua isn't property, you know."

"Semantics," said Xemnas.

"No, that wasn't semantics, that was you being bloody rude."

"I shall just cut to the chase; you can be offended and outraged in your own time. Do you know why I'm calling?"

Isa could practically hear Xemnas' smirk. "It's probably about Friday," he uttered.

"Correct. I don't want to see you at Lea's welcome party on Friday; you'll switch one day early, and Saix will attend instead."

Isa scoffed.

"Isa," Xemnas prompted.

"Fine! I'll be at yours Thursday afternoon to switch." He hung up and walked back inside. After a deep breath, he pretended his phone was Xemnas' head and threw it across the room to his bed.

He sat back at his computer, but he couldn't concentrate. He switched his music on, nice and loud, and tried to lose his disappointment to the free flows of jazz. He didn't fucking care about the party; it was more the principle that annoyed him. Parents didn't go up to kids and tell them they liked one over the other; why should Xemnas' treatment of him be any different? The worst thing was, the whole of Silverkey did it. It was common knowledge that everyone preferred Saix over him.

He studied the photographs he had uploaded to _Monochrome Chât_ 's site, shadows and shapes of Paris, lines of French poetry. Aqua was a paper artist, and spent most of her days hiding away from Xemnas with a tiny pair of scissors, cutting shadows and patterns into intricate silhouettes. Most projects, in order to fill a box frame, took her months to complete, and the slightest wrong cut could unravel hours of hard work. Aqua's paper art created the illusion that it was a hobby that complemented her free spirited, patient nature; in actuality, it was a calming device, the same way someone might squeeze a stress ball or skip stones. Aqua had years of pent-up issues and worries. Living behind such breathtaking pieces of artwork meant she could forget she ever had such troubles; it meant the people of Silverkey would be too distracted by them to search for cracks in her façade; it meant she still had Terra with her.

Isa had considered phoning Aqua to complain about Friday, but Aqua was as predictable as her husband. Granted, she wouldn't have been nearly as callous, but the conclusion would have been the same. Saix was better company, a better resource towards Xemnas' campaign, a better friend to Aqua. Isa was being outclassed by a parasite he'd never met.

He sighed and wheeled his chair to sit closer to the monitor. The phone rang again but this time, it was the business number. Isa looked round, hoping his intimidating stare might silence it. It was well into the evening and consequently his shift; the call had been diverted from Aqua's house to his.

Isa swore, turned down the music and picked up the receiver. "Hello, _Monochrome Chât_ Paper Crafts, this is Isa speaking."

"Hello? Hey, Isaiah? Got your name right this time."

Isa stopped twanging the cord. His mouth ran dry and he felt hot round his collar. "Who's this?" he asked, although he knew the answer.

"It's Lea; do you remember me?"

Isa gritted his teeth. Remember him? Isa had only been thinking furiously about him the minute he had left him! "Of course I remember you. You've got some nerve calling me. How the hell did you get hold of this number? Who told you?"

"It's printed on about five hundred business cards," said Lea. "Ven recommended it."

"Sneaky brat," Isa uttered. He heard a long exhale from Lea, which sounded suspiciously like he had just taken a deep drag from a cigarette. Isa wondered where Lea was – did he go out after work or was he at home because he didn't know anyone? – and then, to his extreme annoyance, this innocent wondering transgressed into thoughts about Lea in general. He could remember the massive tattoo on his left arm, the curious _L_ and back to front _R_ inked on his wrist, the dark blur just visible through the shirt on his back; wanting to know what the tattoos meant was fast becoming less of a stray thought to Isa and more of a life or death mission.

"So I was checking out the site this evening – I hopped on Zack's WiFi but don't tell him – and I was thinking of maybe buying a bookmark. It's sad, but a bookmark is all I can afford from the shop."

"Do you even read?" Isa snapped. "Look, I don't even know if you're being serious about this. Bookmark, my arse."

"It's two quid; it's a bargain."

"Sod off. You're wasting my time."

On the other end of the line, there was the definite sound of a snort. "That's some great customer service skills you have there. Is that how you rake in business?"

Isa sank his head onto his desk, balancing the receiver across his cheek. The world tipped sideways as he stared past his collection of memory sticks and out the window. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Oh God, Lea, what you want from me? This isn't about any bookmark. I told you to stay away from me."

"How come it's about you and not an interest in art?"

"What would someone like you know about art? And don't tell me tattoos are art, because they bloody aren't." Isa took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

For some reason, Lea mistook Isa's spiteful retort as a perfectly innocent question. "I know sod all about art. So, I rang up to learn more about the shop and hey, maybe even haggle so that I take a picture home with me, spruce it up a bit. Plus, I was a dickhead to you," he added. "I owe you a drink at least. You like beer?"

Isa shifted in his seat. He could feel one of his pencils pressing against his cheek, but he was in too much of a conflicted daze to sit up straight. "No, I hate beer. It's the most disgusting thing I've ever had the misfortune to drink."

"C'mon man, you were pretty arsy to me too," Lea pointed out. "You have to meet me halfway here."

"No, seriously, I hate beer." Isa couldn't work out why he didn't just hang up now. Lea's accent made it sound like he was grinning all the time, and Isa was already in enough of a mood without the redhead's help. What lingered, however, over this anger, was the fact that Lea had called. Sure, his reasoning was laughable and his frequent attempts to ask him out were just embarrassing, but stripping that away left Isa with a warm fact: a friend of Saix's was actively seeking him out. And perhaps because of this odd fact, which went over and over again in his mind, the next words to slip out were, "I like wine."

"Wine," Lea repeated. "Okay. When are you free? Tonight?"

"You're keen."

"Not keen, just bored." He laughed lightly and added, "All right, I'm a little keen too, 'cause come on, you're the first person in Silverkey to honestly say what you think about me. It's refreshing. Everyone else is too focused on the campaigns."

Isa sat up, peeling paper off his left cheek. He cleared his throat; he couldn't believe how quickly he had been struck by nerves. "Tomorrow night," he said. "I'll see you in _Seventh Heaven_. _Don't_ joke about the name; I'm only suggesting that place because it's the only pub in this bloody village." He hung up, making sure to slam the receiver with extra force.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Dr Even Newcombe was trying his hardest to make it sound like he knew what he was talking about. Normally, Even would happily explain why being Silverkey's head doctor didn't mean he had a miracle cure for everything, but Arlene Goldsmith had no time for these apparent excuses. After an hour long session of questions and attempts to delve into Naminé's fortified mind, Even was rewarded with nothing. Explaining his empty conclusions to Arlene, complete with gibbers and flustered hand movements, was rather like standing in front of a malnourished dragon and trying to convince it you weren't very tasty at all.

Arlene was always dressed like she was about to go on a television show. Flawless make up, a snappy blazer over a turquoise dress, Arlene cut a dangerous figure. Even secretly felt that Arlene could wear a bin liner and still give off the vibe she was about to kill someone. When Even stuttered his admittance that he didn't have any analysis material, Arlene drew herself up to her full height of five foot. "Excuse me? What do you mean there's nothing to analyse?"

Even replied nervously, "I mean…she didn't really interact with me."

Arlene glanced down at Naminé, who was standing between them. She seemed determined to stare down at the floor.

"Did she say _anything_?"

Even showed her his blank clipboard. He had been careful this time not to get carried away with his doodling. "I'm afraid not. I imagine you're not feeling talkative today, Naminé." _Or any other day_ , he added mentally.

Arlene heaved a big sigh and took Naminé's shoulder. "Why don't you talk to Dr Newcombe?" She didn't appear to want an answer, for she was quick to steer Naminé to the surgery's exit. "Go wait in the car with Daddy; I need to speak with the doctor."

Even flinched at this thought, but he managed to disguise it by adjusting his glasses and coat.

"Why doesn't she speak to you?" Arlene demanded. "You've treated her right from the incident; you've known her since she was a baby!"

"I can only surmise that I am someone she wants to close out of her world. Perhaps I'm a strong reminder of reality, and she prefers to recede into fantasy."

"Surely it's your job as a bloody _doctor_ to stop that," Arlene snapped. Her nails clicked against her forearm.

"With all due respect, Miss Goldsmith, I'm just a GP; I'm not a psychiatrist."

"You're useless," said Arlene, not for the first time. "You can't do a thing right. Every time we've visited you for the last two years, you've been saying she'll get better. So far, she hasn't. We've run out of time to 'nip it in the bud' as you suggested; now, you do your job and ring up your university, your doctor friends, all those names in medical journals and societies. Get them over here and get them to work out what the _hell_ is wrong with my daughter!"

Even babbled a hurried promise to do as she asked, trying desperately to ignore the discomfort in the pit of his stomach. Not many people in Silverkey had a clue about Even's botched career, let alone the Goldsmith-Gardiners. He liked the admiration he got for being the head doctor of the village, but it was hardly well deserved. Even had failed a fair amount of his university years and made a rather unsavoury name for himself by being continuously unpleasant and insolent. Now, if he were to ring up his old colleagues, they'd either ask, "Even who?" or sneer at the sound of his voice and hang up.

As Arlene pushed back her hair and stormed out the surgery, Even dithered in the reception area and realised he was in no power at all to unravel the mysteries of Naminé.

"I don't see why I should anyway," Even grumbled, shuffling back to his office and soothing his head with a massager. "The signs just point to bad parenting. Bad parenting, I tell you," he uttered. He hit his intercom to call in the next patient.

**-x-**

Arlene Goldsmith would not have disagreed if someone called her a poor parent. She was strict, domineering and on many occasions, she overreacted at the slightest thing. People had noticed h0w her behaviour had intensified within the last two years, and it led them to wonder if it was Arlene's reaction to Naminé's illness or, in fact, the other way round.

Arlene had gone wrong from the beginning. She cried for days when she found out she was pregnant, from horror and stress and fear. She and Liam were young and insecure, with no financial support and both sets of parents shouting their disapproval. It had never been on the cards – Arlene had plans to escape Silverkey and go travelling the minute she had enough money – and Arlene resented the sudden cap motherhood put on her. Right until the moment she gave birth, she persisted that she never, truly wanted a baby.

As soon as Naminé was born, Arlene's proclamations dropped on her like a weight crashing into water, a gunshot shattering a glass ceiling. It mutated into parasitic, eternal guilt, and Arlene would look at her daughter and wonder if her baby had ever felt it at all, in the womb of a mother who didn't want her.

The Goldsmith-Gardiners' driving force was guilt. It was because she felt guilty, that Arlene raised Naminé with care so great it might have been smothering, and it was because of guilt that Liam worked himself sick if it meant he could run the farm and put food on the table. Through fierce business talks and callous management of both families' finances, Liam and Arlene became the monopoly on the village's fresh food provisions. They lost all their friends in the process; now, people were only nice to them because they didn't want to starve. The Goldsmith-Gardiners had isolated themselves not to become one of the richest families in Silverkey, but all for the sake of their daughter.

Arlene didn't mind if it was easier just to call her a bitch. The people of Silverkey had no capacity to understand why a woman who didn't want a baby was now desperately doing everything in her power to keep it.

She was frightfully alone in her battle to fix Naminé.

Arlene thought she was going to cry in the car, but she couldn't, not with Liam right there and Naminé staring from the backseat. Instead, she took a deep breath and complained about Even's incompetence for the majority of the journey. It was only when Liam flicked on the car indicator and began to drum his fingers to the radio, that Arlene realised they were on the motorway.

"Why are we going to Burntcrest?"

"Because," Liam said lightly, "I fancy eating out."

Arlene lowered her voice so Naminé wouldn't hear. "Liam, she said nothing at the doctor's; you can't reward her for that."

"This hasn't got anything to do with rewards." Liam shrugged. "I just thought it'd be good to have a night out as a family. Don't glare like that," he added to her. "You're scaring the other drivers. Look, they're all switching lanes."

"That's not me, that's your slow driving!" Arlene huffed. "You're barely on fifty. We'll be arriving at Burntcrest next week at this speed."

Liam grinned and then jerked his head to check the rear view mirror. "What do you think, baby? Shall we get a pizza?"

Of course, Naminé responded with silence. She didn't say a word for the rest of the journey, and neither did Arlene. Liam pretended he was undeterred by the fraught atmosphere; Arlene could, however, see how frequently he was rubbing his neck in discomfort.

Liam pulled into a car park surrounded by a cluster of restaurants. He had gone for a Mexican chain. The last time they had been, Naminé was barely four. Arlene had shared potato mash with her and had to lift her in the toilets so she could use the hand dryer. Naminé had giggled so much that more than one of the waiters had insisted the family come and visit again.

Arlene saw their faces in the reflection of the glass door – three sullen, lonely faces – and she wondered if the staff would recognise them. Naminé was doing her best not to cry, but her sniffs betrayed her. Arlene felt Naminé reach for her hand. She glanced down at her to be met with watery, wide eyes and red cheeks stained with tear tracks. Naminé muttered something.

"I'm sorry as well," Arlene murmured, while Liam asked for a table for three. She squeezed Naminé's tiny hand.

**-x-**

Isa was adamant that the meeting would be strictly that: a formal, business meeting, which happened to be in a pub. He was going to try and get business for _Monochrome Chât_ ; conversation would be about this only. He had to create a good, professional impression, of course, so he chose a decent sweater and bothered to comb his hair.

He couldn't care less that the customer was Lea. Such an event didn't require Isa to go out of his way to look any more presentable than a standard meeting. It was business. Strictly business.

And still, despite saying this aloud and repeating it in his head all the way to Seventh Heaven, Isa waited in one of the pub's red booths, watching the clock and chewing the inside of his mouth like a pissed off date.

A business meeting.

A fucking business meeting, and he could feel all eyes on him interestedly, clearly wondering if he was being stood up.

"I think people are more surprised to see you in a pub in general," Tifa said kindly, when Isa decided to complain about her rude customers. "Why don't I get you a free drink while you wait?"

"No, it's all right." Isa stood up and nearly knocked over a small vase of flowers. "I've had it; I'm leaving. This was his plan all along, I bet. Trying to make a fool out of me…Well, I'm not having it!"

"Who, Lea?" said Tifa. She spun a terry towel idly and nodded past a cluster of middle-aged women to the door. "Isn't that him? Liam described him as a malnourished matchstick."

Isa leapt out of the booth. Sure enough, Lea had just wandered in and was looking around.

It wasn't too late. Isa could still run away if he was quick enough. He could ask Tifa to use the staff exit. Then, with the way Lea's grin widened and he began to wade through the crowd of pub goers, Isa was irrevocably backed into the corner. He groaned inwardly as Lea greeted Tifa first with a nod. No doubt Lea was going to try and ask her out too.

"Welcome to _Seventh Heaven_ ," said Tifa, spinning a pen round her fingers. "What can I get you?"

"A bottle of red," Lea replied. "Matches my hair and his temper."

"Sod off," Isa uttered. Tifa managed to keep a straight face and confirmed she'd come back with their drink. Lea sidled into the booth, sitting opposite to him.

"What time do you call this?" Isa barked at him. "You're twenty minutes late!"

"Dude, I'm new to town; I don't know my way round and Zack gave me shit directions." Lea glanced round at the pub. _Seventh Heaven_ had the air of an L.A. apartment meeting a doctor's surgery. Most lights glowed a deep orange from large hanging bulbs, and the seating was square and orderly. The walls were tiled with circles of differing sizes, colours and depths, creating the illusion that the whole bar had been dropped into a giant glass of champagne. All of the furniture was made with dark wood and leather the shade of sunset; the people who sat in them were, on the whole, subdued and pensive.

"Nice bar," Lea said, just in time for Tifa to hear. She opened their wine bottle and filled two sparkling glasses.

"You'll get bored of _Seventh Heaven_ soon enough," said Tifa, still managing to smile at such a comment. "As the only bar in Silverkey, people do tend to vie for somewhere new. Let me know if I can get you anything else."

She sauntered off, and Lea sat back with a quiet comment about how nice Tifa was.

"That's it?" said Isa. "I thought you'd hit on her."

"Why would I hit on her?"

"That's kind of your thing, isn't it? Flirt with anyone who pays you a speck of attention?"

To Isa's extreme annoyance, Lea laughed it off. "Should I be copying you and insulting everyone instead? Drink the wine and lighten up. Is that some samples you've brought along?"

He nodded to the leather-bound book Isa was leaning on. "Yes," he said stiffly. "These are just photos of the works, mainly the box frame ones. You can have a look and…and then you can go home, I guess," he finished lamely. "I doubt you're actually going to buy anything."

Isa drank his wine, but he kept his eye on Lea. Part of it was from wary suspicion that Lea might damage the portfolio, but it was more him trying to sneak numerous looks at the tattoos.

"Fuck," Lea breathed, turning pages of the portfolio. "These are amazing. How the hell does Aqua even start them?"

Isa could smell smoke and rain. He was finding it increasingly difficult to just focus on the matter at hand and not blurt out a thousand questions all about Lea. "She just has a flair for it. It was just a hobby at first – you know, like making her own birthday cards and stuff – but she got the business going when she realised how popular her works were."

Lea brought the portfolio closer to his face. "She literally uses scissors and paper to create this stuff," he remarked. "Amazing."

Isa wondered what the best way was to explore those tattoos without making it obvious. Silverkey hadn't seen anyone so…well, Isa would have said _free spirited_ , but it was more than that. Lea seemed to simply not give a fuck about anything.

"Fucking amazing," Lea said again. "You know, I was one of those kids at school who couldn't draw a straight line with a ruler; always coloured out of the lines too. You like them?" He swung the conversation upside down, as easily as flipping a tray.

Isa jumped. "What? I never said—"

"You're staring," Lea said. "Don't worry; you ain't the first."

Isa rearranged his face into one of an affronted prude that would have made Eraqus proud. "I wasn't staring," he snapped. "I was just wondering how inane you'd have to be to stick that much ink into your skin." And then, before he could stop himself, he asked, "How many have you got?"

Lea looked up in thought, the corners of his mouth tugging into a frown. "Think it's about eight; maybe more. As I got more done they kinda converge now. The best one's on my back, but I quite like the one across my chest, too."

Isa's mouth fully disconnected from his screaming, logical brain. "W-where?"

"Ten minutes into our first meeting and I'm already getting naked," Lea remarked, much to Isa's furious embarrassment. Lea undid his top buttons and tugged his shirt enough to show his collarbone and below; Isa fought hard to stay looking disgusted. "What do you think?" he asked.

Lea lifted his chin a little to create less shadow, so that Isa could see the whole thing: a large anchor on his right side, whose chain swooped down and then along Lea's sternum, only to break into a flock of birds by the time it reached his heart.

"Great, isn't it?" said Lea. He pulled his shirt straight and began to do up the buttons. Isa caught sight of his pale chest.

"I still think it's ridiculous," Isa said. "What's it supposed to signify? Some sort of momentous sailing occasion?"

Lea turned back to his wine, closing the portfolio. "Doesn't mean a thing," he said. "Does it have to? I got tattoos 'cause I fucking wanted them. Only one with any sort of significance is this one on my wrist, but I don't like it." He lifted his right hand, whose base had been burned with the black ink of two letters back to back: an R, and a reverse L. Isa pretended he was seeing it for the first time and hadn't memorised it at all.

"So, like you correctly assumed, I can't afford any of Aqua's stuff." He slid the portfolio back to him and stuck his chin out a little in thought. Lea was drinking his wine slowly. Isa surmised he was using that liquid to prolong his stay. But then, glancing back at his own very full wineglass, he might have unconsciously been doing the same. Lea was grating and irritating, but he had taken the time to go out for a drink, which was more than anyone in Silverkey besides Aqua had done for him.

And then, Lea destroyed the moment. "Aqua told me about you and Saix," he admitted.

Isa flushed. He stood up, his elbow nearly upsetting his glass. "So that's what this is about. You just wanted to see for yourself how I'm not her, yeah? Hoping to even see me switch out? Well, for your information, it doesn't work like that—!"

"Hey, hang on," said Lea. He jumped to his feet and grabbed Isa's arm as he tried to pass. "It's nothing like that, I promise. Why would I do that?"

"I don't know; maybe because I'm a freak?"

"Isa, I'm completely new to town. I'm hardly going to go out my way to make enemies with people, am I?" Lea tugged his arm, a soft but meaningful nudge towards the booth. "I told you on the phone that I was keen. That's it to me. There's no ulterior motives and all I'm doing is integrating with people. With you _and_ with Saix. The two of you don't have to be mutually exclusive."

"Everyone else seems to think so," Isa spat. Lea had his back turned to the majority of the pub goers, so he couldn't see their heads turning.

"Well, I'm not everyone else, am I? Look at me. Come on, man."

Isa tried to wrench his arm free, but Lea was stronger than he looked, and his grip didn't loosen. "And what's a freak, huh?" Lea said. His voice was a murmur at such close proximity. "Someone with a split personality? Someone with tattoos?"

Isa was desperate to sit back down. It was no secret that he was lonely, and Lea could very well become his friend if Isa put the effort in. Not only that, Xemnas wanted him to be on good terms with Lea. Doing so would make Aqua happy too. There were so many merits to submitting to that grip on his arm.

"Okay?" Lea said gently. He let go, trusting Isa not to break into a sprint out the pub door.

"…Fine." He sat back down and took refuge in his wine. "Course she'd tell you," he grumbled. "It's for Saix's benefit."

"Yeah, I got that," Lea said. He stared into his glass of wine thoughtfully. "She's a decent person, you know. Saix, I mean."

Isa fiddled with his shirt sleeve. He was only halfway through his wine and he could feel it going to his head already. "I know she is," he muttered uncomfortably. "I just don't like how we get compared, that's all. And I don't like how all anyone ever does when they're with me is talk about her."

"Fair enough; I won't do either of them then," Lea replied.

"L-look," Isa said, rediscovering his huffy tone and sitting up straight. "If you're really as keen as you say you are, then I think you should lift the lid on yourself. I mean, why would you even come to Silverkey? Xemnas said you were originally from London. It's a bit of a drastic move."

Lea scratched his stomach and then folded his arms behind his head. "I had to go for drastic. All or nothing, you know?"

"Not really."

Lea smiled a little, but it wasn't anything like the usual light-hearted grins of past. It was more of a defensive reaction, as though Isa had unknowingly upset him. "Well, I mean that sometimes, you have to cut out all of the poison. No point in getting rid of a little because it'd still be there; it'd grow back. You destroy it all or you don't even bother."

"So you moving here…that's you cutting out poison?"

"Pretty much."

"…What poison?"

"Ah, that'd spoil my fantastic analogy," said Lea, around a light laugh. "Ludor Lawrence warned me not to be too liberal with any sordid secrets I might have."

"True," Isa conceded. He nearly smiled. "Everyone has dark secrets and problems, but no one wants to be the first to break through the fakery of this whole town."

"Speaking of this whole town, apparently they're holding a big do for me this Friday." Lea poured in more wine for them both. Isa could see Tifa just up ahead, seemingly pleased that he and Lea were now being quite civil.

"I can't go," Isa admitted. "Xemnas says I spoil his campaign so Saix is coming along instead. It'll be a bore, I imagine."

Lea managed a weak smile. "Shame. I'd have liked you there; I bet you're a right laugh once you've had a drink or two." He wriggled back in his seat a fraction, looking somewhat hesitant. Isa didn't think it looked right on him. "Hey," he said, attempting spontaneity. "If I can't hang out with you on Friday, I'd settle for your number. Or is that the kind of offensive flirting that will probably get me glassed?"

Isa scowled and grumbled his affirmation that he could have his number, which Lea responded with a hopeful grin. Lea got out his phone, keyed his way to the address book and typed in _Isaiah_. He handed his phone over. Isa typed in his number and hit OK; just before he gave it back, however, he saw a flash of Lea's complete contact list and how it had a grand total of three people in it.

"So, what do you recommend in Silverkey?" said Lea.

"What do you mean, recommend?" Isa returned. He was still thrown by the lack of contacts – if anything, Lea looked like the kind of person who was insanely popular – and had to throw the question back like it was a dirty sock.

"Well, you've been here a few years, so you must know some good things about the village that I should try out."

Isa pursed his lips. Surely he and Lea had nothing in common. For one thing, Isa's main hobby was going for long walks, enjoying the nature and studying the marshlands' ecosystem, so his suggestions for Silverkey highlights were bound to be met with ridicule by Lea, who looked the very personification of a nuclear wasteland. "I don't know anywhere," he said finally.

"Good places to eat, for example," Lea pressed.

"… _Gongaga's_ is nice, I suppose," said Isa. He channelled his nerves into tapping the stem of his wineglass. Lea had nodded and mouthed the suggestion, as though Isa's opinion actually had any worth. "It's a patisserie," he elaborated.

"And you go there lots?"

"No!" Isa said too quickly, suddenly self-conscious that his habit of visiting _Gongaga's_ every week or so was actually very visible round his waistline. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and admitted, "…Well, I've been there enough times to be on first name terms with the couple who run the store. I like their millefeuille, okay? It's not a crime."

Lea cleared his throat a little, offering a small grin. "I didn't say it was. I like cake myself. In any case, that's great. Next time we meet up, why don't we go to _Gongaga's_? I want to try a mill fill."

Isa clenched his fists and was about to spout some dissent about there ever being a next time, but who was he kidding? Of course there'd be a next time. He was already visualising talking Lea through the various cakes on display (being quite the expert), and it took only a second before these thoughts disintegrated to be less about talking cake, and more about _feeding_ cake.

Isa scrabbled for his dignity and slammed his palms on the table, making Lea jump. "Y-your French is terrible," he exclaimed. "It's mille _feuille_!"

"Millefeuille," Lea parroted. "Is that better?" His chest puffed a little with a deep breath and he looked so pleased with himself that Isa had to fight his smile. Spurred on by this, Lea added, "Bonjour, bonjour, je m'appelle Lea. Je suis un sexy bastard."

Isa's yells in disbelief for such flagrant French escaped in the form of a rather unimpressive splutter. At the sight of Lea, his eyes such a bright green in the subdued hue of _Seventh Heaven_ and his grin curved perfectly round his wineglass, this was all Isa had been able to manage. His heart slammed against his ribcage, thundered in his head, as he thought to himself, _Lea Murphy, you have no idea._

**-x-**

On Thursday evening, Aqua had a horrendous list of household tasks to get through before leaving for dinner. The family had to be out the door at six sharp if they were going to turn up at Aeleus Mason's house on time. Aeleus was a massive, burly man who could easily be mistaken as a builder. He was, in fact, a lawyer in probate, and Xemnas was hoping to win some political points from Aeleus before the Goldsmith-Gardiners did.

Xemnas was stressed enough just trying to find the right tie, so it was up to Aqua to handle the twins and Pluto, switch Isa out and get the house locked up; somewhere amongst this chaos, she was supposed to get ready herself.

"Roxas, I need you to fill up Pluto's water bowl before we go. Ven, honey, stop eating; if you get your shirt dirty there'll be no time to change. Uh, what was I doing?" She looked around the cluttered kitchen for a clue. "The gift, that was it."

She rifled through the island counter's drawers, pushing her fingers past cling film and greaseproof paper. She found a stack of wine bottle bags and shook open one with the least creases.

"No, Aeleus doesn't drink red," she grumbled. She swapped the wine for a white and sealed the bag. "Ven, can you remind me not to forget this. I told you to stop eating those biscuits."

"But I'm hungry," he complained. Aqua made sure she wasn't looking at his pleading eyes when she snatched up the packet and stowed it away.

"Well, you need to eat everything Mrs Mason dishes up for you, so I suggest you save yourself." She rifled through the wardrobe in her mind, wondering what to wear for the evening, but she could barely concentrate, not when she had dozens of other tasks to do. The more she rushed, the more she seemed to make a hash of things.

To Aqua's immense relief, the kitchen door opened and Saix stuck her head round. "Anything I can do?"

"I need to get ready." Aqua tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear and tried to mask her frustration with the boys. "I just can't find the time, and I still need to sort out Ven's shoes—"

"I can do that." Saix held open the door and shrugged. "It's okay, Aqua; let me help you. Which shoes?"

Aqua could never understand how Saix could take such a disoriented life into stride. After every switch, Saix asked two standard questions. One, what day was it; and two, what could she do to help. Xemnas and Aqua had always reiterated that Saix was nothing short of a pleasure to have around the house, but Saix was relentless in her pursuits to be useful.  It was as though Saix thought her cross dressing couldn't be forgiven, and making herself useful was the only way to override any dislike the Allsands had for her. Of course, Saix and the Allsands' relationship was nothing like that.

The truth was, Aqua had only ever thought of Saix as family, and even more so with her father's passing. One by one, her family was leaving her, but Saix, in her irregular, infrequent bursts of existence, had become Aqua's anchor, when Xemnas was too far gone for Aqua to catch up to.

In a bit of a hurry, Aqua explained how Ven had walked through muddy puddles the other day and his shoes were now too horrible to present to the Mason family for dinner, and Saix caught on quickly. Aqua watched, relieved and a little proud, how Saix wordlessly went to clean the shoes, ruffling Roxas' hair as she passed him.

Aqua headed upstairs to change, knocking the clutter on their dressing table aside as she searched for some decent jewellery. She pushed aside letters and bills, Xemnas' earpiece, a tangled web of old necklaces and a small box of charms. "Ugh, anything," she muttered.

It was when she was searching the wardrobe and casting contorted looks of indecisiveness between two dresses, when she heard muttering from the bathroom. She recognised it as Xemnas' voice and rolled her eyes, wondering how he could even think about taking his phone to the loo with him. As Xemnas would be wearing his customary green tie to match his campaign's colour scheme, Aqua picked a magenta dress to clash with it. She did up her side zip, taking a deep breath in order to assist with such a painful move, and then her gaze fell back upon the dressing table.

Xemnas had left his earpiece here. And, she realised, lifting the bills aside to see his car keys and wallet, he had left his phone and BlackBerry here too. So who was he talking to?

Quietly, she padded across their bedroom and pressed her ear against the door. Xemnas' voice was low, however – lower than Terra's had ever been – and she couldn't distinguish any word at all.

The bathroom door opened and Xemnas stared down at her, blinking. He was doing up the buttons of his shirt, green tie draped round his neck. "What on earth are you doing?" he said lightly.

"I uh…queuing?" Aqua said quickly, stepping into the bathroom next. He walked past her, giving her dress only a side glance. "Um," she murmured after him. "Who were you talking to?"

Xemnas picked up his wallet and keys. He didn't seem too hurried to make eye contact with her. "I was practising a campaign speech," he replied. He sat on the edge of their bed to check his phone.

"You were practising in the bathroom?"

"It has a mirror, doesn't it?" Xemnas answered.

Aqua didn't press the matter further.


	5. Chapter 5

Lea had no idea what to wear for his welcoming party. His fashion sense was apparently in dire need of improvement, and if he stuck to his usual skinny jeans and a loose vest, most of Silverkey's precious residents would be running out of the town hall, screaming in offence from the sight of his tattoos. Still, if Lea was going to make his stay in Silverkey a success, he needed to hold their rules higher than his own comforts.

"When in Rome and that," he said to himself, checking out his reflection.

Lea had gone to the local store Ienzo had advised him on earlier in the week. He had a big shopping list, from ironing boards and blinds to stodgy food and a standard stationery set because he didn't even own a pen. He had bungled all of his stuff into his Bug, which clunked and complained as much as his back did when he had to lug it up the drive to his house. Thankfully, such a strenuous trip had paid off, for he now had a few more shirts to try and look smart in. He didn't think he looked too bad, when coupled with his favourite pair of jeans and a loosely knotted black tie. The majority of his tattoos were covered up, and he had taken the time to shave and comb his hair into a relatively tame style. It soon proved a pointless exercise, for when Lea drove to the town hall with the wind rushing through the Bug, he came out of the car with exactly the same hair as he had first started out with.

"Cheap wax," Lea uttered, locking his car and doing one last check on his reflection in the window. He went up the concrete steps two at a time and almost as soon as he entered, he was accosted by a sparkling arm.

"Lea, you're looking dapper!" Aqua was the first on the scene, ushering him through the double doors to a small hall strewn with buffet tables, flower arrangements and fruit baskets, as though Lea had taken a wrong turning and ended up at a wedding reception. "We're so glad you could make it," she said. She played quite a convincing hostess, her shocking pink dress swirling round her knees as she weaved him through clusters of smiling neighbours.

"Xemnas, Lea's here." Aqua took his elbow and in one expert move, she arranged herself, Xemnas and their boys so perfectly, they might have been posing for a picture. "Lea, this is my husband, Xemnas."

Xemnas cut through Roxas and Ventus, not unlike a certain biblical character dividing the sea. He wore a sleek, very expensive suit, with a sea green tie that seemed to drown his blue eyes. "Lea, I've heard so much about you." Lea supposed Silverkey's other Mayoral candidate would have been like Liam Gardiner – a slender, slimy looking politician. However, Xemnas was surprisingly burly, with taut neck muscles, messy brown hair and a sharp nose. Xemnas offered a strong handshake that made Lea's hand numb for minutes afterwards. "I hope Silverkey has treated you well. Both my wife and I think very highly of you."

"I'm just a cleaner," Lea tried to say, but Xemnas flattened his words with a loud proclamation that Lea required a drink. Lea supposed Xemnas and Aqua had fine-tuned this routine for the countless other neighbours and residents they had to impress. While Xemnas was forceful and domineering in his conversation, Aqua worked in the background, softening the air with gentle smiles and sparkling wineglasses.

"So what do you do?" Lea asked. When he saw Roxas and Ven pull the same despairing face, he realised too late this was a question he shouldn't have asked.

"I run a company in Burntcrest, which is the next town across." Xemnas drew himself up to his full height to better prepare his lungs for his monologue. "Essentially, the firm organises corporate and private events. They are bespoke and tailored to the client's need. It's a fascinating market, that uses specially crafted social situations to obtain a variety of desired results, be it to boost morale, reward success or put the client on its respective game board. That's what my firm assists with; we don't just throw parties. It's a growing business that creates more business. It gets particularly hectic around Christmas, as you can imagine. Why, last year, the company—"

"So I guess you organised this party too?" Lea gave a polite nod to the hall.

Xemnas blinked a few times like being pulled out of a trance; apparently, he was unused to people interrupting him. "I'm sorry? Oh, no. It was my idea, but this event was fully executed by Aqua. If it were in my charge, I would have ensured some semblance of a colour scheme at least. She does try, though." Xemnas put his arm round Aqua, and though she smiled back, Lea caught the quickest flick of her gaze, darting to the floor in embarrassment.

"I think it's great," Lea said. "I've never had anything like this done for me so I'm very flattered. I don't have to make a speech or anything, do I?" he added nervously.

"Not at all," replied Aqua.

"What was life for you before Silverkey?" said Xemnas. He took a glass of wine from Aqua without looking at her. Lea thought his question was oddly phrased, like a roundabout way of accusing him of being completely insignificant until he was graced with Xemnas' presence.

"I uh…I was living with my brother for a bit," he lied. "It didn't really work out though so I left."

"So your family is all the way back in London," said Aqua. "It must have been difficult, mustering the courage to move this far. Do you miss London?"

"Not really," Lea replied. "It wasn't good for me. I guess time will tell if Silverkey is. I suppose I miss some people, but I'm settling in here. Isa's cool. He's a great guy. For the record, I wouldn't have minded him being here at the party tonight," he added.

He was rewarded with a tiny, grateful smile from Aqua; Xemnas, however, rubbed his temples tiredly. "Yes, you are an exception, I am afraid. Most of us – myself included – grow ever tired of Isa's ignorance and rudeness. Given his condition, it is clear why he's so impertinent, but there's no reason why he has to be so childish about it. I can only apologise for his behaviour."

"I'm cool with it," answered Lea, but Xemnas didn't seem to have heard him.

"His employment with _Monochrome Chât_ is because only Aqua is sympathetic enough to give him a job, a purpose if you will." Xemnas rocked on his heels and took a deep breath to carry on. "We bend over backwards to accommodate him, reassure him that he is still part of the family despite his misgivings…"

Lea pretended he wasn't too affronted by Xemnas' careless rant about Isa. Aqua mouthed an apology to him, her hands loosely round Xemnas' elbow. As Xemnas launched into a further disappointed remark – this time about Ven – Lea spotted someone throwing him a lifeline. He looked round just in time to see Liam grinning at him, and then beckoning him over. He had Naminé one side of him, her arms latched round his upper leg; on the other was a diminutive blonde who Lea had seen a few times at the school gates to pick up Naminé.

"Sorry," said Lea, interrupting Xemnas for the second time that evening. "Do you mind if I greet Liam Gardiner? It's just that he's waving this way…"

Xemnas pulled a face as if he had just swallowed nails, but he managed to find a civil smile. "Not at all. Perhaps I'll see you later."

Lea edged past and said, quietly enough for only Aqua to hear, "Yeah, perhaps not."

**-x-**

Naminé didn't want to let go of Daddy. She wasn't scared of the party, like Mummy was saying; she was actually trying to comfort him. He hadn't been right since the party had begun. She had felt the nerves in his voice and the way his body had gone stiff, as though he was freezing cold but didn't want anyone to know.

"Poor guy looks bored out of his mind," said Mummy. "Call him over before he goes to sleep standing up."

To Naminé's delight, Mr Murphy weaved his way past another group of adults and shook Daddy's hand. "Hello again," said Daddy. "We couldn't help but notice your pleading eyes across the way there."

Mr Murphy snorted. "He's an interesting bloke."

"I agree," said Daddy. "Xemnas Allsands is a perfect businessman but he doesn't quite score the same marks with his family. Can I introduce you to my partner, Arlene Goldsmith?"

Mr Murphy and Mummy shook hands next. When they moved, Naminé smelt smoke and perfume. Mr Murphy spoke for a little bit, his voice too far away to catch. Mummy stood on tiptoe a bit and had to crane her neck. Naminé thought she was disappearing again, and then Mr Murphy smiled at her. "All right?" he said.

She nodded. Mr Murphy had his crinkled blazer over one arm, so Naminé couldn't see the phoenix's tail any more.

"Hey, Naminé." Liam pried her fingers off his thigh and sat on his haunches to her level while Mummy struggled to find nice things to say about Mr Murphy. Daddy pretended to sort out her collar. "Baby, why don't you choose some stuff from the buffet?" Naminé knew he was going to ask her that again. Their family had got here as early as the Allsands, and every five minutes, Daddy had been trying to convince her to brave the table on her own. "It can't be much fun sticking to me all night and you must be starved by now."

She shook her head.

"For goodness sake, Naminé, the chicken nuggets aren't going to attack you. The table's just there; what are you so afraid of? We'll be right here when you come back. Go on, you can do it." Her fingers buried themselves in Naminé's hair, and then Mummy gave her a gentle nudge.

"I can go with her, if you like?" said Mr Murphy. "I've had fuck all to eat today and shit, I'm so sorry—" he shook his head and raked his hair. "I keep swearing, I'm sorry. I don't come with a filter—"

Mummy smiled and said it was just nerves. Slowly, Naminé broke away from Daddy's leg and began a nervous walk to the buffet table. Kairi was already there, struggling to decide between trifle and ice cream. She gestured for Naminé to come over, but there was little time to think when Mr Murphy passed her a paper plate and followed her gaze.

"Straight to dessert?" Mr Murphy commented. "My brother was like that. He'd get dessert first just to make sure he got a good slice and not one of those slushy leftover helpings when everyone's already been at it."

Naminé could feel her parents' eyes on her. She behaved differently around Mr Murphy, she knew that. She'd find her voice again and she'd feel like she'd been lifted out of the water; colour would bleed back into her and everything wasn't so muggy, trapped, isolated.

Mr Murphy had red hair like Kairi, a bright shade that reminded Naminé of the traffic lights that sat between Silverkey and the road leading out. He piled so much food onto his plate that it began to bend from the weight. Despite such an appetite, he was still so thin. Naminé waited a moment, carefully taking two sandwich triangles, until Mr Murphy looked her way.

"You look like you want to ask something," he said. He had no table manners at all; he was eating with his fingers and double dipping. She wondered if he was going to get told off.

She moved out the way and sat on a plastic chair diagonal to the table. It was easier to ask questions when she was looking down. "…Are they real?"

Mr Murphy blinked a few times. "Are what real?" He looked over himself. "The tats?" he guessed.

"The bird on your arm."

Mr Murphy twisted his left arm to study it. "The phoenix? Nah, it's not real. The world would be in a heck of a lot of trouble if there were birds on fire. B-but the concept's real enough!" he added, when she couldn't quite hide her disappointment. "I mean, you say _phoenix_ and everyone knows what it is and what it looks like. That makes it real enough, right?" He sat down next to her. She liked how adults could make themselves small for children.

"I think about it a lot," she admitted.

"The phoenix?"

She nodded. "They come back when they die."

Mr Murphy didn't say anything in response. For a little while, they just listened to the party music and chatter, and Mr Murphy even brought over a cup of orange juice for her. He thought for a while and then, quietly, he concluded, "That's why they're not real."

**-x-**

It was very easy to sneak away from Dad, especially since he had a lot of people to talk to. Roxas argued that it was more the case Dad didn't care where they were, but Ven didn't agree. He had heard Dad lots of times before, in the bathroom, arguing with himself. Dad was under a lot of stress; once the campaign was over and Dad was the new Mayor, just like Grandfather Eraqus had been, then their family would be normal again – Ven was sure of it.

Mum let him wander off, but not without making him promise not to venture outdoors to the garden or veranda and to also refrain from eating everything at the buffet. Ven stretched across the table for the sausage rolls and grunted when the end of his tie skirted along the rim of the sour cream dip and jumped right in. "Uh oh," he muttered, spinning round to make sure Mum hadn't seen the mistake. He turned back to see a pale hand holding out a wad of napkins.

"Thanks," he said. He followed the arm to see Naminé Goldsmith-Gardiner, dressed in a frilly pink dress and an expression so miserable, she looked ready to cry. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, the way Mum always nodded when she said things were okay. Ven sorted out his tie, glad to see the sour cream hadn't left a stain on his tie (just a horrible smell). He picked up his plate and resumed choosing his food, and then he noticed Naminé's plate was empty. "Can't you reach?" he asked. He held out the serving dish of sausage rolls, but Naminé declined with the tiniest shake of her head. Instead, she took a single chocolate spread sandwich.

"You look starved; you should have at least another three more. Here, can I?" He took her plate and filled it up for her; surely doing such a thing would be enough to make her a bit happier. He caught Naminé's gaze wandering back to her parents.

"Your mum and dad are nice," he said, although he didn't really know them at all. "My dad's busy most of the time, so Mum looks after us. She got really mad with me yesterday because she found out about me passing on her business cards."

Naminé stopped chewing her sandwich. She shifted a little and cleared her throat; it seemed she hadn't spoken for quite a while. "…She was angry?"

"At first," Ven replied. "She said it made us look desperate and she got really cross." He shrugged. "She's not very scary, though. Anyway, I told her I was just trying to cheer her up; then she stopped being so angry."

Naminé stared at him for a few seconds. Then, she muttered, "Did it work?"

Ven blinked. "D-did what work?"

She licked her lips. Naminé was a difficult person to read; Ven couldn't tell if she was interested or bored, thinking or stalling. "I mean…did it cheer up your mum?"

Ven looked behind him, where Mum was at one of the tables with Mr Haugen, trying to remember which wineglass was hers. "Yeah," he said finally. "Maybe only for a little bit, but I think I cheered her up. I mean, Isa and Lea met up again because of the business card. Isa was really happy, and so Mum was too. Breaking the rules is okay if you're doing it for a good reason, don't you think?"

Naminé stared at him. She took a sudden breath, and she moved, reacted, as though Ven's offhand comment had been exactly what she needed to wake up from sleep. "Yes," she said.

Ven grabbed a handful of crisps and divided them between his plate and hers. "Hey," he said after a moment. "Do you want to be friends?"

She looked past him at the empty space round the dessert table, and Ven wondered what she was seeking permission from. However, when she turned back round, she was wearing a shaky smile. "Yes please," she said, and she bit her lip and fought a giggle. She pointed at his tie and held out her wad of napkins again.

Ven looked down and to his dismay, saw his tie was now dripping in tomato sauce. "Aw man!"

**-x-**

It took Lea four to five mental processes to acknowledge the fact that Isa and Saix were the same person or to be precise, had the same body. Like graphite and diamond, they started with the same base but ultimately, arranged themselves into a separate entity. Saix dressed, sat and behaved differently to Isa; she had a casual air about her, as though she was stuck in a daydream and completely oblivious to the noisy party around her. Her slim feet were back in espadrilles, and her legs in shapely skinny jeans. She wore an oversized jumper that drowned her figure, and she had taken great care with her foundation and make up. She was the only person dressed casually, the only person to be sitting cross legged and facing out of the window, back to the party.

"Hey," said Lea, twirling the seat next to her and sitting on it back to front. She stared at him, not unlike the way a caught out student would bat her eyelashes to try and answer the question on the blackboard up ahead. "Do you remember me?"

Saix jumped a little in her seat. "Yes, you're the jail guy," she exclaimed. "I'm sorry, I had to think for a moment—"

"That's all right. Aqua told me about your situation – you know, with your odd days out," Lea said.

"I just miss days in a row, a bit like hibernating," she said with a shrug. "This time it's three days. Usually, it's more."

"How are you keeping?"

"Good, thank you. The kids have been working on a science project that had them creating dirt layers in a jar. Which was okay until Ven poured in the water and shook it without checking the cap was screwed on properly." Saix pulled out her hair band and began to fix up her hair. Lea was quite certain she hadn't changed its style at all. Her habits were less of Isa's frustration with people and more an attempt to get comfortable with herself. "Anyway, the next stage of their project is to analyse the soil samples. Trust me, it was difficult trying to convince the twins to store their soil and earthworms somewhere other than the bread bin. Roxas put forward a very convincing case about Pluto sabotaging their learning voyage."

"Ah, well kids definitely know how to play adults," said Lea.

"Tell me about it." Saix smiled. "How are you finding Silverkey?"

Lea paused a moment too long. "Uh…nice, I guess. A bit too nice; a bit perfect, you know? I guess I'm just not used to it so I might be being cynical."

"I understand what you mean. The residents are genuine, I'm sure, but a lot of effort is made to keep up appearances. Their kindness is being amped up by the campaign, if you like." Saix sat back a little, as much as the plastic chair would let her. "What's London like?"

He exhaled, fingers itching for a cigarette. "It's busy. You know, people and cars and pollution everywhere. There's loads of stuff to do, though."

"And you have family there?"

"Yeah, lots," said Lea.

Saix bit the inside of her lower lip, raising her eyebrows. "…But you don't keep in contact with them, do you? You mentioned a brother when we met. Where is he? Is he all right?" She tensed and shook her head quickly, as if something invisible had hit the back of her head. "I'm sorry I ask so many questions; it's a fault of mine. I suppose I've given up with piecing mine together that I find it more interesting to hear about other people's lives."

Lea glanced up from his forearms. He had been momentarily thrown by how easily Saix had reached the correct conclusion about his family, that he hadn't looked at the big picture. Saix's interest in his past didn't ring of cherry picking for gossip, but of something more genuine, like a bedridden person wondering how it felt to cycle. "You not been on holiday then?"

Saix twisted her lips, looking down in thought. "We came down here from Wiltshire about ten years ago, and we've never really been out the village since. Only to Burntcrest I guess. Xemnas goes to Wales every year, but he goes alone. I'd love to go travelling, but it's not really possible."

"You could do day trips," Lea suggested. "St. Ives can't be that far – three hours tops. Do you have a car?"

Saix burst out laughing. "No, of course not! What if I fell asleep at the wheel?"

Lea rubbed the back of his head. "Shit, man, it never even occurred to me." He sat back, and now that he thought about it, Saix's life was just as complicated as Isa's. It sounded like being an alter meant she needed constant watch and care. Lea hadn't given much thought to the true depths of the people of Silverkey, and wondered if there were some who were as desperate to get out as he had been to get in.

"Shit," Lea said after a moment. "I haven't even got us a drink."

"Oh no, I can—" Saix stood up and winced at the sudden strain to her dead leg. Lea waved a hand.

"Don't worry; I can get it. What do you drink?"

Saix winced again, but this time it wasn't from pins and needles. "I uh…I drink beer."

Lea looked round at her so quickly, he cricked his neck. "You're not serious."

"I know, I know," Saix answered, wrinkling her nose. "It's really inelegant and they don't even have it on the tables here; I had to get it straight from the kitchen earlier."

On this note, she followed him through the maze of tables and clusters of conversation. By now, the children were growing bored of the party and were seeking to amuse themselves by crawling under the buffet table and counting to see who could do it the quickest. Lea could feel various eyes on him, ones of hope that he'd join their talk as well as ones of disapproval at his appearance. When Saix held open the kitchen door and nudged him in, Lea was more than a little glad to be out of sight. His relief must have shown, for Saix offered him a tiny smile of amusement and said, "Don't worry, only Aqua will ever come here to fetch food refills." She nodded to the orderly trays on the kitchen's long island, all covered in cling film and tin foil. "We can sit in here for a while, if you like?"

She stood on tiptoe and then hoisted herself on the counter, passing him a bottle of beer. Lea sat next to her, their backs to the blinds. They clinked their bottles. "Speaking of Aqua," he said. Lea leaned towards her a bit and Saix copied, blinking a few times. "What's with the Allsands? That Xemnas is a bit of a wanker, ain't he?"

Saix's face creased up with a nervous laugh, and she did a quick glance round them to make sure Xemnas wasn't hiding in the kitchen before she nodded in agreement. "He's…yeah, he's a bit of a wanker."

"I don't get it. How does someone as nice as Aqua end up with him? He just…I dunno, he—"

"—Bulldozes over her?" Saix supplied.

"Yeah. Like he has his own agenda and everyone else is irrelevant." Lea took a sip from his beer and watched as Saix fought some sort of internal battle before playing with her hair.

"I'm not sure if I'm the right person to tell you about Xemnas," she said after a moment. "I'd advise you to stay on his good side, though. He can be awfully callous." A quick laugh escaped from her. "You're doing well with the residents, though. You must be so desperate to stay out of London."

Lea looked up. Saix met his gaze evenly. "Meaning?"

"Meaning it wasn't just a stint in jail that forced you out of London. To everyone else, you seem easygoing, so carefree you'll get along with anyone. But to me, you try to fit in somewhere you don't belong because the alternative – whatever it is back in London – frightens you. You attend parties that aren't to your taste, get a job you've never really wanted, wear clothes you don't like." She nodded at his cheap suit. "You subject yourself to a life of fakery if it means you don't have to go back. I'm sorry." Saix's feet played with a loose cupboard handle and perhaps it was just the big jumper, but she suddenly seemed tiny next to him. "I just try to be observant, and not judgmental in any way."

Lea knocked his beer against hers. "You're scarily observant."

"I'm sorry," Saix said again, this time around a smile. "If it does help, though, since I can see through your guise, there's no need to put it on around me. And I know it sounds strange coming from a cross dresser, but you don't have to pretend."

Lea finished off his beer and sat back. He was uncomfortable against the empty boxes stacked behind him, but even more so at what Saix had said. He couldn't lose it all here; it had barely been a week. But the words were out his mouth before he could stop himself. "I fucking hate it here," he said. Saix didn't look surprised at all. "Silverkey fucking _sucks_. I hate my job and I hate how it's all I deserve 'cause my grades are so fucking shit. I know what I'm doing here, and I need to stay. But fucking hell, it's so difficult." He threw his bottle across the kitchen to the mouth of a bin. "Do you know what's stopping me from bailing and going back to London? Nothing. I can just go back, you know. All I need to do is stick my keys in the ignition and drive."

He gestured to Saix's empty bottle and wordlessly, he threw it in the bin for her. He had half-hoped his confession would have made him feel better, even just temporarily, but Lea was met with guilt instead. Just saying he wanted to go back to London was giving up; he was letting the poison back in of his own accord.

"…What's waiting for you in London?"

He studied his hands, at the stupid tattoo on his right wrist. "My brother will be looking for me."

"And that's bad?"

"You kidding? It's fucking disastrous."

Saix looked up in thought. "And since things aren't fucking disastrous in Silverkey, you shouldn't give up," she said simply. "Also, the belief you're only defined by your job is completely unfounded. Both of us are hardly en route to a glittering career, admittedly, but there's more to us than just being a cleaner and someone who seals box frames, right?"

She smiled, and perhaps it was because Isa was always so stern looking, that Lea was completely taken aback by the sight. Saix had made an art of pinpointing exactly what Lea needed to hear in order to feel better, and he could understand why she was liked over Isa. She had none of Isa's insecurity and rudeness, and was instead an ethereal source of reassurance. And yet, despite how easily Lea could turn to Saix for honest advice, his thoughts were on Isa.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Much of Terra Allsands' enemies lived behind his eyes, and Aqua's poor father didn't know where to start. Like broken pottery, he needed fragments enough to see the shell, at least, and then he could focus on mending the cracks. Terra, however, was like earth. He had been so expertly crushed into fine dust that he couldn't remember who he was at all.

Terra had the potential to recover, but Father soon realised the biggest hindrance to progress: Terra couldn't sleep.

It was impossible to treat a patient who was too tired to concentrate, and it was impossible for Terra to sleep. He was tired, utterly exhausted, but when he did nod off, he would soon wake up as the house and the one-eyed man bled back into his thoughts like the rolling tide. He used to pace – Aqua could hear him in the room below hers – and until her old and tired father crossed the hall to reassure him, Terra was left alone with his nightmares.

Father tried all kinds of ways to help Terra sleep, but he only really did when he and Aqua fell in love. She wasn't supposed to have anything to do with Father's patients – she was just the daughter without direction – and yet, the attraction between her and Terra had been instant. Aqua lent him some books to read, and Terra, a few days later, repaid her kindness by stammering an offer to make her a cup of red bush tea.

Aqua and Terra spent much of that early autumn together. They planted bulbs and drank their tea under the spidery awning of the acer trees; Terra used to rest on his front and watch Father's koi carps, and Aqua would cut miniatures of Paris with her scissors and paper. Terra looked after the finalised silhouettes for her, hands cupped with care as though he thought they were alive, and once, he sat up and asked her to tell him about Paris.

She had opened his palm and admitted these paper shavings – the curled lamppost, the black and white cat, the grand feet of the Eiffel Tower and the elderly couple mid-waltz – these were all she knew of Paris. She had never been, and she was unlikely to ever go. "But the streets light up at night," she had said, "and they say you can always hear singing. The buildings shine in the rain, and the couples dress to match."

Terra had looked between them, at the fat green winter coats Father insisted they wear to ward off the cold. He had smiled, and Aqua, tentatively, returned it.

- **x-**

When the front doorbell rang on Sunday afternoon, Roxas hit the pause button on his game and blinked for what felt like the first time in hours.

"Who is it?" Ven asked him, convinced Roxas could see through doors.

"I don't know." He held Pluto by the collar as Mum threw aside her duster and headed to the porch. It was probably going to be someone boring, like a salesman, but as soon as Mum burst out laughing in shock, the twins threw their consoles aside and ran to the door.

"Oh, Lea, you didn't have to." Mum's cheeks had gone bright red as she wrestled with a bouquet of giant purple flowers.

"No, I wanted get you something," said Lea. He was wearing a sweatband and a tracksuit rolled up to his knees, and Roxas thought he must have jogged all the way here. "I wanted to thank you for the party last night. I had a really good time."

Mum hugged the flowers, beaming. "You have to come in," she said resolutely. "I've just put the kettle on."

Mum had done no such thing really. Roxas covered her lie by distracting Lea with the offer to put his shoes in their cupboard. Roxas couldn't recall a single occasion when Mum had ever received flowers and so he supposed he owed Lea a fair bit of his gratitude, for making Mum laugh like that.

"They're so beautiful," Mum commented. She filled a dusty vase with water and rummaged through the cupboards for some tea mugs. "I'll make one for Saix as well," she said. "Roxas, why don't you and Ven show Lea through to the living room? Pry Saix off the grand while you're there."

Lea blinked a few times, his back suddenly straight. "Grand? Wait, you mean that music?"

While the Allsands were very used to the sound of the piano, Lea looked stunned, as though he had never heard anything like it before. He listened to the flurry of Saix's arpeggios, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe when they got to the living room. "She's brilliant," he remarked in a whisper. Ven, however, didn't think so, and he took a few steps to the piano stool and pulled off Saix's headphones.

She jumped and turned round, ending her piece on a rather flat note. "Hey!" Her frustration soon morphed into pleasant surprise as she saw Lea. "Hello again! What brings you here?"

"He bought flowers for Mum," Ven supplied.

Saix raised her eyebrows and Lea threw up his hands. "As a thank you gift," he said. "It wasn't a move."

Saix waved away Lea's concerns, freeing her hair from the loop of her headphones. "You're very kind," she remarked.

"And you're some pianist." Lea nodded to the grand piano, whistling. "What was that?"

"One half of a Mozart sonata." Saix tapped her headphones. "Other half's here." She swore under her breath when she realised her music player was dangling helplessly now that she was stood up. "It's a bit stupid really, playing a piece meant for two people, but I love it and it's so fun to play—"

"Play it again," said Lea. "C'mon, let's hear it."

He dotted around Saix, and Roxas couldn't figure out what he was looking at. He had never heard such flustered – almost giggly – snickering from the pair of them. They bent the ears of Saix's headphones and sat on the piano stool together, so that Saix could play and Lea could listen to both halves.

"How are they doing?" said Mum. She edged into the room with a tray of tea; she hadn't even set it down before Ven grabbed his juice and two biscuits.

"I don't think Lea has ever seen a piano before, Mum," Ven commented, and Roxas had to agree. Lea's usually-thin eyes were now as wide as saucers as they flicked from studying Saix's fast fingers to the systematic pedalling. He reminded Roxas of a world history film they had watched in school, which had a scene with cavemen staring slack-jawed at the wonder of fire.

"Well, not all families are lucky enough to have a piano." Mum sat on the sofa between them, drumming in time against her mug. Roxas scooted along so that he could sit against her – he had yet to find anything else in this world that was as warm and reassuring as his mum. "Look, boys," she said, round a smile, "I think we've found a pair noisier than you two!"

Saix kept elbowing Lea when playing the higher notes, a fact the two of them seemed to find utterly hilarious; she also kept losing her place when Lea distracted her with small waves of his hands like a shy conductor ("I'm sorry – I swear to God I'm not doing it on purpose!"). Roxas wondered how long it'd be until Dad came out of his study to complain about the racket, when it all finished on a sudden, sour note. Saix slammed on the keys and threw the headphones aside, smacking Lea round the face with them.

"Oh, you were doing really well," Lea exclaimed. "Look, I'll sit on my hands this time; no funny movements from me, I promise."

Saix flushed, and wordlessly, she got up and left the room. Lea rubbed the back of his head guiltily. He opened his mouth to apologise, but Mum shook her head and explained, "It's all right, Lea. Isa's switched in; that's all."

Lea fidgeted with Saix's headphones, his left leg shaking up and down. "S-seriously? The switch is that quick? I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to provoke—"

But Mum laughed, and again, Roxas found himself brimming with gratitude for Lea. "No, you didn't provoke her at all. It's a bit complicated, but I can explain. Isa is manually triggered into Saix; that is, he responds to a particular prompt. As the alter, Saix doesn't. She stays until the original self is balanced out and then fades, a bit like letting air out a pipe until there's none left. Of course, this means that when Saix is triggered, she wakes up to the same, planned scene; Isa, however, is a bit more sporadic. He wakes up in the most random of places and situations."

Lea fumbled with his sweatband, his eyebrows furrowed. "I had no idea," he said. "Sheesh, no wonder why he's so angry all the time."

Here, Ven exchanged a knowing look with Roxas, and the two of them grinned. Mum too, quirked her eyebrow and hid behind her cup of tea. Lea looked quite perturbed at the sight of them all smiling at him. "Wh-what?"

"Nothing," Mum said. "It's just that…well, we think Isa's become a lot less angry since he met you."

Roxas smirked round his biscuit. "You should have saved the flowers for him!"

**-x-**

Isa had constantly woken up in the weirdest of places, courtesy of Saix's lack of routine and structure. This was the first time, however, that he had switched in in front of Lea. He was furious, shaking in Saix's ridiculous outfit and feeling unbearably embarrassed by the whole thing. He scrubbed off his make up and searched the spare room at the Allsands' for fresh clothes, utterly dreading what stupid comment Lea would have for him when he eventually came downstairs.

To his surprise, though, Lea only had a smile in greeting and was waiting patiently for Isa to choose the conversation. With nothing to shout at him for – no joking remarks about Isa in drag, or comments about how wonderful Saix was – all Isa could manage was a shaky, "Sorry about that."

Lea shrugged. "No problem."

Isa went down the last of the stairs, and as he stopped in the hallway, for some reason Lea reached out to touch his upper arm. It was a quick, unfounded gesture – did Lea think Isa was going to fall over or something? – and Lea stuck his hands back in his tracksuit's pockets. Isa fidgeted with his shirt, pretending to pick fluff off it. What was he supposed to do? He didn't know why Lea was here and he felt completely unprepared. At least with their last meeting at _Seventh Heaven_ , Isa had had all day to think about what to say.

"Isa, I have an idea," Aqua said from the kitchen doorway. There was a vase of giant purple flowers behind her, a cheerful sign that Xemnas would surely complain about when he saw it. "Why don't you take Lea to _Gongaga's_? He needs to try their cake."

Lea nodded eagerly, his hair flopping behind his sweatband. "Oh yeah, that's the place with the mill fill, right?"

Isa pretended to be put out by the suggestion, although he was secretly sending Aqua his mental thanks. "I…I suppose I could. I haven't got anything else planned today, so…"

"Can we come?" Ven followed him round like a puppy sniffing out its lead. "Oh, please can we come?"

"No." Isa waved a trainer at him. "Go away."

Predictably, Ven's lower lip wobbled and he started to cry, making sure to do this in front of Lea. Isa was just about immune to this action, but Lea fell for it. "Aw, we can take them, can't we? It'll be my treat," he said. "Let's check with your mum first."

Aqua was fine for the twins to go, so everyone except Isa was happy – until he realised he could use the twins to his advantage. With the boys there, Isa could leave the conversation to them; he didn't have to worry about chatting with Lea or worse, accidentally revealing just what kind of unclean thoughts he had of him. Ven and Roxas could natter about their school projects, and Isa could observe that very attractive body in peace.

It was a good plan, but it didn't completely work out. The four of them walked to _Gongaga's_ , and with Ven and Lea in front, Isa had an unmistakeably perfect view. However, it was punctured by Roxas' frequent flat stares at him.

"What?" Isa hissed finally. Ven burst through the green door of _Gongaga's_ , smacking his lips at the array of cakes.

"I was just thinking about your face," Roxas said, which didn't comfort Isa at all.

"What _about_ my face?"

"You look like Miss Kisaragi when she finds out Mr Valentine is doing playground duty with her."

Isa narrowed his eyes. " _Meaning_?"

Isa never found out, for Lea turned to face him. Quickly, Isa and Roxas straightened and smiled as naturally as they could to cover the shady talk. "This place is amazing," said Lea. "Look at the fucking cakes; I'm gonna die of a sugar overdose."

Isa suddenly found himself also considering scoffing on cake until he died. Surely it was far less painful. Standing this close to Lea was like being naked in a room of clothes and pretending you were absolutely fine. Isa wasn't sure if he was looking too much into it, though. Lea was nice to him, but he was nice to everyone he met – he was letting Ven hold his hand now, for God's sake! Together, the pair of them were bending down to admire the glass cabinet of perfectly crafted cakes.

"Which one's the mill fill?" asked Lea.

"Mille _feuille_. It's that rectangular one there. What can I get you?" They were being served by Vanitas, who worked behind the counter with his twin brother, Sora, on weekends. Given he was sulky teenager with a reputation to uphold, working in a cake shop in a hair net was probably not how he liked to spend his time. However, Isa supposed he had to earn his money for video games somehow.

"Hi, Van!" said Ven. He was still busy talking Lea through the cake selection. "Millefeuille is Isa's favourite. I like profiteroles, and Roxas will have anything with chocolate on it. Oh," he added, seeing where Lea was looking, "that's the pride and joy of _Gongaga's_. Their cakes are so great, they even once made Lieutenant Hewley smile!"

Isa rolled his eyes at the framed photograph on the back wall, which had a shot of Mr and Mrs Fair – the owners of _Gongaga's_ – shaking hands with Angeal Hewley. The Fairs had found immense success in their business when Silverkey's Lieutenant visited their shop by chance and happened to be very impressed by it. Isa didn't know if it was just another silly village rumour, considering the Fairs were well into their sixties, but people said they often saw _Gongaga's_ lights on in the middle of night, just to cater to their most respected customer.

"So are you going to order or are you just here to admire the décor?" Vanitas spun a long spatula round his fingers impatiently. Lea started and reeled off the request Ven was feeding him.

"Do you want a coffee, Isaiah?" Lea added.

"Y-yeah, okay." Isa insisted on paying for half of it, and they lined up all their small change at the till, much to Vanitas' annoyance. "By the way," said Isa, screwing up the receipt. "You…you can just call me Isa, you know. Everyone does. I was just being spiteful th-that day."

"All right. Isa, then," Lea practised. He took their cake tray to a spare table, his elbow accidentally knocking Isa's arm. Roxas and Ven took the inner seats, leaving Isa very content with the seat opposite Lea. He watched as Lea handed out their cakes and chatted animatedly to the twins. Ven leaned across to touch Lea's wrist, at his _L_ and _R_ tattoo. "What do they stand for?"

For the first time in a long while, Isa saw Lea hesitate. If Isa didn't know any better, Lea looked uncomfortable. "Oh, this? Well, the _L_ 's for me and the _R_ is for my brother, Reno."

"Where's Reno?" asked Ven through a mouthful of profiterole.

"He's back in London," said Lea. Isa shifted in his seat, because he knew Lea wasn't keen on talking about Reno and still, they were all curious. Isa's knee nudged Lea's by accident. Lea nudged him back.

"London's really far away," Roxas pointed out. "Don't you miss him?"

"A bit, I guess?"

"I could never be so far away from my brother," Ven pointed out. He frowned at Lea. "I mean, he's my _brother_. He's family."

"Well, sometimes family isn't always good for you," Lea opted to say. His eyes softened a little, and it was the closest Lea had ever got to disclosing his past in London. Clearly, there had been some bad blood between Lea and his brother. Maybe Reno didn't like Lea desecrating his body with all those tattoos, Isa thought idly, but not too idly to stop a jittery spasm in his leg. He bumped against Lea under the table again; Lea was busy talking to Roxas, but once more, his leg nudged Isa's. This time, however, Lea kept their legs touching.

"S0 you mean to say that Reno was evil," Roxas interpreted sagely.

Lea snorted. "Nah, he wasn't evil. He was a good guy, but his ambitions didn't really match mine so I thought it better to separate."

"So why don't you speak to him?" Isa said. He was finally joining in after his body had got used to the warmth of Lea's calf sliding up and down his own. "I've seen your phone contacts; the people in there are all from Silverk—" He faltered, stomach churning. Lea chewed his lip, and Isa knew he was getting dangerously close to finding out something.

Wait a minute. Lea had been speaking of Reno in past tense.

_Oh my God, he's dead._

"You all right?" Lea asked. "You've hardly touched your cake." He drew his leg back, convinced that was the reason for Isa's discomfort. Isa's words of _don't pull away_ caught in the back of his throat, and he swallowed, staring down at his plate.

"No, I just…I shouldn't have been so insensitive."

"You, insensitive?" Lea joked. "Never." He reached out and tapped the edge of Isa's plate with a long finger. "It's all right, seriously."

He grinned at Isa as though nothing was wrong, but now Isa was beginning to wonder. Was Lea like Aqua, keeping his grief under wraps? And if so, why was he, Isa, just adding to his problems?

Isa concentrated on his millefeuille and could help but feel relieved as Ven began to talk about Sora and Van instead. Lea smiled hopefully at him, which Isa did his best to return. Then, wordlessly, he stretched his leg out under the table to find Lea again.

**-x-**

That evening, Lea was about to cook himself a simple pasta bowl for dinner when he saw a black blur in his front garden. Zack Fair performed a spectacularly fast hairpin turn from his house to Lea's. Lea hadn't even opened his mouth to get out a greeting before Zack announced, "We have a big problem, Lea. A _major_ crisis. Aerith failed her two times table and now we have way more Bolognese tonight than we wanted. I'm afraid there's no other option; you _have_ to come round for dinner!"

And Zack, apparently convinced Lea didn't know this was premeditated at all, draped his arm round Lea's shoulders and effectively frogmarched him next door.

The Fairs' house had an organised kind of clutter to it. Lea had never accumulated enough material possessions in his lifetime to know if he would have a similar system or if he'd ever create a home as welcoming as the Fairs did. They seemed to have more patchwork throws and large cushions than their sofa could cope with, candles wherever there was space, pink checked boxes with neat labels for the magazines they housed, little table lamps placed carefully on lace doilies. Most corner spaces had been filled with leafy plants and every table had perfectly arranged flowers, guaranteeing every one of the Fairs' guests would leave with the complementary gift of hay fever.

Lea was quick to spot the affection between Zack and Aerith. They were free from the tired exhaustion both Aqua and Arlene exhibited, and Lea felt less on guard round the two, given how they were not at the heart of the campaign. Aerith had cooked a lot, from the main meal of Bolognese with garlic bread to tiramisu for dessert; she rounded off the evening by giving Zack and Lea a can of beer each. Lea mentioned how he had spent the afternoon at _Gongaga's_ , and Zack's chest puffed out proudly. "Oh yeah, my folks run that place!" he said. "Next time you go, mention you're my next door neighbour and Mum'll give you a discount, I'm sure of it!"

Lea saw how comfortably Zack and Aerith fitted together on their sofa, how picture perfect the scene was, and how his reflection was in the photo frames behind them, gaunt and tattooed and unconventional.

When Lea asked them how the two of them met, he had been hoping for something either humorous, or maybe even empathic. But Zack gave a little shrug and glanced at Aerith as though he had never considered such a question.

"We grew up together," Aerith supplied.

"Th-that's it?"

Zack shrugged. "That's how it usually happens in Silverkey. You know, the next door neighbour becomes your wife, the butcher your father-in-law, the nerdy classmate your landlord, and so on."

Lea scraped by with a smile. Zack and Aerith – and presumably the great majority of Silverkey – regarded love as something gradual, a phenomenon that stretched across time and conveniently, could be found in such a small town. What were the odds of someone's soul mate residing in the same village as them?

Yet that was exactly what had happened to Lea, although it had been nothing gradual for him. It had been a forceful hit that crunched up his stomach and whacked him behind the knees. More days went by to reaffirm his suspicions, and one morning when Lea got up for work, he just knew he had fallen, hard and fast, for Isaiah LeFévre.

 


	7. Chapter 7

As members of the school orchestra, Roxas and Ven attended weekly practice sessions after school. There were three moments Roxas dreaded most at these sessions. The first was when he had to tune the E string of his violin; the second was the embarrassing occasion Ven's recorder squeaked like a parrot with hiccups because he was laughing; the third was when Dad's car waited outside the gates in place of Isa's.

To Roxas' dismay, all three of them happened that Thursday. Mr Valentine commented that Roxas' E string was slightly off key, Ven burst out laughing at the sound of someone's sneeze and sure enough, when they left school to go home, Dad's silver car was there – not that that meant Dad cared at all. Roxas was fairly certain that he could put two pillows in the backseats of the car, and Dad would still drive off.

"Uh oh." Ven fidgeted with the straps of his schoolbag. "Would Dad—" he started, but even Ven already knew the answer.

Roxas and Ven had brought Hayner Meachem to music practice today. Hayner was a percussionist with no actual concept of rhythm, but he wanted to join the orchestra to impress Olette Brennan, who sat next to him in most classes. Mr Valentine had at first, been astonished by how off beat Hayner was, but he agreed to give him a spot in the orchestra as long as he worked hard. Roxas and Ven were happy to have Hayner with them, but the only problem was getting Hayner home. His parents worked at the Goldsmith-Gardiners' farm, and their long hours meant Hayner got the school bus home every day.

"Don't worry," Ven had said. "Isa can give you a lift home. He's really moody but secretly he's nice."

Roxas supposed that like him, Ven had hoped Saix would have switched out by the end of the day.

"I could just walk back," said Hayner. He had his jaw set and tried to look confident about this idea. The truth was, his sense of direction was about as good as his sense of rhythm.

"No, it's okay. Wait here; I'll ask Dad." Ven ran down the playground. Roxas twisted his mouth in thought and watched as Ven started out cheerful. Then, his shoulders sagged as he spoke with Dad at the window.

Roxas told Hayner to wait by the gates. Quickly, he pulled Ven aside and tried to resolve the situation himself. "Hi Dad. Is it okay if you drop Hayner at home first? I-it's just that he had music practice with us today—"

"Let me tell you why it's not okay." Dad turned in his seat a little bit. Roxas shrank back. "I have a client conference call starting in fifteen minutes. I leave work early every Thursday Isa isn't around to pick you up from your music session. All the while you are standing out there, snivelling and begging me to drive to the other side of the village, you're wasting my valuable time. Get in now, or I'm driving home without you."

Ven swallowed and nodded. Hayner muttered that he'd just walk, but Roxas grabbed his arm and pushed him into the car as well. "It's too far to walk," he half-shouted. As soon as the door closed, with the three of them sat in the back, squashed against one another's bags, Dad drove off. Roxas wasn't sure if anyone else had heard – for he was sitting directly behind Dad – he heard him utter, "Bloody kids."

Hayner looked worried. He was, after all, going further away from his home now, and Dad maintained a stony silence, even when Hayner said a polite, "Good afternoon, Mr Allsands."

Ven sniffed a little during the journey home. This transitioned to full on tears when Dad pulled up in the driveway and got out without looking back at them. Roxas squeezed Ven's hand. _That's not our real dad_ , he tried to convey silently. They all got out the car and Ven ran indoors sobbing.

"Is there a bus stop near here?" Hayner said nervously.

"Don't worry, I think Ven's gone straight to Mum. Come inside," Roxas answered.

Mum didn't need to have been prompted by Ven's crying. She was already in the hallway, staring up in disbelief as Dad wandered off upstairs with his phone to his ear. Saix too, was watching from the kitchen island, one hand propping up her chin.

"Hello, Hayner," said Mum. She retied her apron and shook her head. "I'm so sorry about the misunderstanding."

"He needs to get home, Mum," Ven said. "Dad wouldn't—he just—"

"Hayner, I can drop you off home but since you're here, you're welcome to stay for tea. You can use our phone to call your parents if you like?" Mum smiled at him and ruffled Ven's hair. "And you can stop crying now; come on, tell me about your music practice. What songs did you play?"

She wandered into the kitchen with Ven, easily lifting the sadness out of him. Roxas wished someone would do that to Mum in return. He hoisted his bag on the counter and clambered onto the chair next to Saix, who was taking out her yellow contact lenses.

"Have you switched out?"

"Yeah." Isa rubbed his eyes and groaned into his arms. "Ugh, I need a hot shower." He patted Roxas' shoulder and nodded towards the hall. "Looks like I just missed your music pick up. Sorry about that. What did I miss?"

**-x-**

Ienzo Friday managed after school club on Thursdays, which adults and schoolchildren alike often complained about. For someone with such a name, it seemed like a nasty trick on Ienzo's part to addle with already-stressed parents' minds. Liam Gardiner raced up the playground, stumbled through the main reception doors and turned left to the classrooms.

"God, I'm so sorry I'm late," he panted. Naminé was the only one left in the club. "Thanks, Ienzo. I'm sorry I kept you waiting. Come on, baby, pack up your stuff."

Ienzo got up from his seat and stood close to Liam, his voice low. "Everything all right?"

"It will be. I just had so much to sort through at the farm, and Arlene's actually been unwell for the last couple of days."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Ienzo.

"Don't be," Liam replied. "She's lost her voice so it's the most peace I've had in a long while. How was Naminé today?"

Ienzo's lips thinned as he surveyed her. She was packing her colouring pencils away one at a time and muttering to her right. "She was as good as ever. A few classmates continue to make life difficult for her, though."

Liam closed his eyes with a deep breath. "And you've spoken to them?"

"You know I have," returned Ienzo. "But children are cruel, Liam. They can hurt in the most elaborate of ways without breaking any rules, like not pairing up with her for group work or accidentally jogging her. Naminé's in a situation that's testing her, and in order to pull through it, she needs to rise to it herself."

Liam sighed, rubbing his temple. It was a habit his father adopted when stressed, and Liam, sniggering, had often called him out on the old man gesture. Before he knew it, though, he was also doing it. "Ienzo…she's quiet. She's a good girl, but she's quiet and shy, and kids don't have patience for that. I mean, Naminé can't suddenly grow confident, can she? More to the point, I don't want her to feel she has to change just so that other people stop being dickwads to her. It's not right."

Ienzo unfolded his arms and brought a hand to his chin in thought. From what Liam could see of his face, he seemed hesitant – a trait that rarely graced someone so proud. He glanced back at Naminé, who seemed to understand that Liam wanted to chat with her teacher; she was now examining the classroom's wall display of the solar system. "I do have a suggestion," Ienzo said after a moment. He adjusted his tie nervously, as though he was about to announce something as insane as skydiving as a form of help for Naminé. "Some mornings before registration, she talks to Lea Murphy and the Allsands twins."

Liam smiled in disbelief. "She's not going near them boys. Xemnas Allsands would do his nut if he found out our families were connecting. He'd misinterpret it as a political ploy on my part and—"

"Xemnas Allsands doesn't care for his sons," Ienzo replied evenly. "I'm sure you are well versed in seeing through his lies."

"Even so…" Liam said. The last thing he wanted to do was provoke Xemnas; he was already proving a fierce opponent and fanning the flames of competition seemed ridiculous. "You think the Allsands boys are worth it?" he clarified.

"They're only slightly older than Naminé and wise beyond their years," said Ienzo. "Perhaps they share a lot in common with Naminé, given their similar position in the campaign. I can ask them to look after her for one lunch break."

"All right," Liam relented. Considering Naminé spent every break and lunch in Ienzo's office, where the bullies couldn't reach her, perhaps it was worth testing the waters, for Naminé's sake. Liam fretted inwardly at the prospect of the Allsands twins actually being bullies themselves, that he was okaying a terrible situation. However, as he said goodbye to Ienzo and walked with Naminé out of school, he realised he couldn't recall anything bad about those boys. They were loud and liked to stick together – as twins that age tended to do – but so far as Xemnas was concerned, it was almost impossible to believe they were his boys.

"Did you enjoy your lessons today?" Liam asked. They got in the car and Naminé fidgeted with the hem of her dress.

"We have a new art project," she murmured. "We're making shoebox rooms. K-Kairi helped me with the ideas."

Liam managed a small nod. "We're running a bit late – that was my fault, sorry – so we'll do a quick dinner tonight. Mummy's still feeling a bit ill so I thought we'd make her a soup and we can talk about your project ideas. What do you think?"

Naminé pulled on her seatbelt. "I think it's a good idea," she murmured. Liam smiled at her through the rear view mirror; to his surprise, with a little bit of delay, Naminé managed to smile back. Liam wondered if he owed that progress to the most unlikely of people.

"Oh look, she's well enough to text." Liam took out his phone and prepared to scoff at Arlene's shitty complaints for him to hurry up and serve her dinner. However, she had only sent him a single word – pregnant.

**-x-**

Isa was clenching the inner fabric of his pockets, in a last ditch attempt to look completely unflustered outside 8, Blue Park Lane. He was still bristling from hearing from Roxas about Xemnas, however, so even the prospect of seeing Lea was difficult to enjoy. He chewed the inside of his mouth, ran his distracted mind through direct and brutally honest remarks he had lined up to ensure that stone wall remained between him and Lea. He had no idea why he was still doing it, really, adding more bricks and mortar for a defence in the exact shape of a welcoming archway.

When Lea opened the front door, a grin round an unlit cigarette, Isa pretended he was affronted and it was his Thursday evening that had been disturbed. "I got your text asking me to come out. I've only just switched in so this is the earliest I could come round."

"Yeah? You know, you could do what normal people do and text back saying okay. I could have whizzed round and picked you up then."

Isa gave Lea's Beetle a side glance. The hunk of dirty yellow metal didn't look like it had _whizzed_ anywhere for years. "I brought my car," he said. He tripped over his next sentence. "We could go for a drive."

Isa's skills were rusty; he knew that. His last attempt to ask someone out had been Tifa Lockhart, who was twelve years older than him; she barely counted because one, everyone asked out Tifa at some point in their life and two, Isa had been fourteen and stupid at the time. Still, it didn't look like Lea had much ability either, for instead of leaning seductively against the doorframe with bedroom eyes (as Isa had imagined on his way here), Lea was trying to yawn with a cigarette in his mouth and scratching his stomach.

"Sure; I'll just get my car keys then."

"We can take my car."

Lea raised a thin eyebrow. "Don't judge the Bug by its looks; that thing's gone up and down the country. It even went to Scotland a couple of years back."

"Mine's a convertible."

Lea lifted his gaze to study the cloudless sky. It was mild, with the slightest remnants of sunset. "Okay, you win." He grinned, slipped behind the door for his house keys. As he did, Isa got a quick view of the hallway behind him, which stretched deeper into the house and finished with the bare kitchen. Everything seemed to still be in boxes.

"I can drive us to Burntcrest, if you need to buy anything for your place?" Isa suggested, adding pointedly, "It's missing a fair chunk of everyday stuff."

"Nah, I put an order in with the shop yesterday and arranged a home delivery for tomorrow." Lea shut the front door and followed him to the car. His gaze wandered around the insides of Isa's small convertible, perhaps searching for a clue about him, a conversation starter. Isa had carefully kept his car neutral, though.

"Seatbelt," Isa instructed, and by momentous occasion, Lea complied without cracking a bad joke or irritating remark. He steered into the road and began to head towards the wetlands.

"Wetlands?" said Lea, when Isa announced their destination.

"You're a city guy, aren't you?" Isa said. "I thought it'd be a nice change of scenery. Silverkey's a shithole of a village, but its natural surroundings are impressive. We sit on the River Keye's approach to the sea, so its estuary creates a lot of salt marshes. They're a fascinating ecosystem of their own and they're pretty much the only land in Silverkey that doesn't have Liam Gardiner's name stamped on it. Burntcrest – the main town from here – uses Silverkey's marshes as part of their schools' geography studies and research trips. When they visit, it's usually the biggest boost in business Silverkey gets all year. So with that in mind, our village owes a lot to the wetlands it has little to no concern for."

Lea drummed his fingers on his thigh. "What's the deal with Liam Gardiner?"

"Really? That's all you got from that?" Isa tore his eyes away from the road for just a second; Lea didn't look like he was fooling around. "You're not going to call me an eco nut or something?"

"You can be an eco nut; I don't mind," Lea answered. He rubbed his left arm thoughtfully. "It's pretty cute. So come on, answer my question. Why does everyone in this town live according to Liam Gardiner's schedule?"

Isa half-wished he wasn't driving. He wanted to look at Lea while they talked but at the same time, doing this would annihilate much of Isa's already basic social skills. He liked Lea, to the point just being with him would grow a lump in his throat, and he'd stumble over words he had been using since he was two, forming bumbling sentences of repetition and redundancy. It didn't help that Lea was remarkably good looking in the scruffy, unconventional kind of way. And the leg game at _Gongaga's_ …Isa felt hot round the collar just thinking about it.

"Generally speaking," he said tersely, "Silverkey revolves round Liam because he owns most of its land and jobs. If he's not your landlord, he's your employer. He's a conniving bastard, especially with that sour partner of his giving him ideas – but his campaign's attractive because the alternative is Xemnas."

Lea stopped rolling up his sleeves. With the quick glances a driver could spare, Isa scraped a good look at him, and on closer inspection he saw Lea's arms weren't just dirty as he had assumed; the dark smudges on him looked to be from cigarette burns. "Let's get this straight; you don't like him either? What is up with your family?"

"Where do we start?" Isa replied blandly. He indicated left and turned onto a country road. He could already smell the salt in the air. "What do you know about him?"

"Only that he's incapable of human emotion." To Isa's great annoyance, Lea sat forwards to open the compartment in front of his seat. "He only seems to remember he's got a wife and kids when his campaign requires it. What a dick."

Isa's grip on the steering wheel tightened. Lea was far more perceptive than he looked, and given how quickly he had grown on Aqua and the twins, Isa wanted to tell the truth, so that Lea would feel less pity for the Allsands and instead, share their anger. However, there was one thing he still had to understand about Lea, that forced him to purse his lips and pull up on the side of the road and turn off the engine.

"Look, I don't want to talk about Xemnas. C-can we talk about us?"

"Us?" Lea repeated.

"Yes, us." Isa undid his seatbelt and crossed his arms. "I'm going to tell you right now, nice and clear, that I…look, I'm not here to muck around. I know you're keen on me, but I'm not going to be someone you have for a night and then forget about the next morning, all right? Silverkey has no room for that kind of—that kind of—"

"—Bullshit," Lea supplied.

"Tomfoolery."

The leather seat creaked as Lea folded his arms behind his head in thought. The sky was darkening, and the moon was struggling behind clumps of stormy clouds. Isa could only really see the silhouette of Lea's face. "I mean it," Isa said sternly. "I have to stay in Silverkey as long as Aqua does – so I'm stuck here forever, essentially. The backlash will destroy me if I wind up just being someone's…p-plaything. So while this flirting of yours is fine if you're just being silly, the minute you want more from me, it stops. It all stops unless you're being serious."

He raised his eyebrows to prompt Lea; then, he realised perhaps this gesture had gone amiss in the dark. He heard Lea exhale and cluck his tongue, thinking.

"Can I smoke?" he said after a minute.

"What? Were you even listening to me?"

"I was! You've just put me on the spot and I'm nervous as hell. Can I? Please?" He rattled his cigarette packet. Isa sighed and grumbled, "Fine."

It was agonising (for more reasons than simple impatience), seeing Lea's face glow in the flash of his lighter and then succumb to the night again. His face was so angular, with a sharp nose, thin eyebrows and pointed chin. His left leg was shaking up and down, but despite his proclamations, Lea didn't look nervous at all. Isa suspected Lea knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

"All right, how about this." Lea rested his left arm over the side of the car. "After my cigarette, we kiss. My guess is that if there is something serious between us, we'll both feel it and want to pursue it. If it feels weird and gross, however, then we finish it there and that's that. No strings attached."

Isa chewed his lip. He was quite glad Lea couldn't see the full extent of his hesitance. His heart was hammering against his ribs and his palms were clammy against his shirt. How was he supposed to know through one kiss whether a whole relationship was worth it? And post-cigarette too? Of course it was going to be weird and gross.

"Does it sound good with you?"

Isa twisted his lips. "Y-yeah, okay."

"Great." Lea's grin resonated through the single syllable.

It turned out to be the longest cigarette break in the world. Isa waited, stewing in silence, as Lea took occasional drags and studied the moon-kissed wetlands. Isa had half a mind to grab the stupid cigarette and finish it himself, if it meant this torture would end. He refused to give in, however. He had gone his whole life without being kissed; what were a few more minutes?

Isa jolted, an invisible wave of cold water dropping on him. What if he was rubbish? Surely that was a bigger crime than having nicotine breath. Wait, was _his_ breath even okay? In a fluster, Isa looked away from the passenger seat and back to the steering wheel. He pretended to itch his nose and tried to smell his  
breath. He panicked. Why the hell did he agree to something so stupid?

He could just drive, he realised. Lea couldn't go ahead with the make-or-break kiss if Isa was driving…

Too late. Lea threw the butt into the marsh (prompting Isa's 'eco nut' side into a silent but seething rage) and undid his seatbelt. His right arm stretched across the gap between their seats. He leaned towards Isa. Taking a deep breath, Isa copied. He didn't quite close the gap, so Lea murmured, "Are you okay? Nervous?"

"I'm not nervous!" he shot back (which, at such proximity, probably sounded like he was shouting). "Why would I be nervous? Like you said, it's no strings attached. Go on, just do it; just get it over with." He squeezed his eyes shut and waited, like he was ten again and about to get his ear pierced.

He heard creaking leather, and then they bumped noses. "You need to tilt your head too," muttered Lea. "It's easier. And don't be so stiff." He angled Isa's face. Isa could feel the warmth of Lea's palm and the icy touch of the numerous rings he wore. He was about to open his eyes to check if this was actually going to happen, when there was a firm, definite press of Lea's lips against his own. Isa didn't really know what he had been expecting. He supposed Lea would be as rough and mean as he looked, but after the initial force of contact, everything about him was soft, gentle, cold. Lea's fingertips were cool, starting shivers as they ghosted the nape of his neck and buried themselves in his hair. Isa felt his breath catch on the light breeze.

Isa broke away before Lea had a chance to deepen the kiss. There was a pause, a still moment when Lea waited with gentle patience and Isa's mind reeled and overworked itself to the edge of madness. They were now only connected through Isa's hand, which had at one point gripped the front of Lea's shirt, preventing them from pulling too far apart. Lea's arm draped along the backrest of his seat.

The whole thing was just so stupid, Isa decided. He couldn't bank everything on one kiss, could he? How was he supposed to know? God, did he even swing this way?

Slowly, he tried again, this time parting his lips a little more to see what Lea would do. Lea settled for sucking on his lower lip, and then he proceeded duck closer, trailing kisses down his neck. Isa wasn't quite prepared for the sensation of uneven stubble against his collarbone. He managed to shudder out a quick breath, free hand jumping to Lea's hair in a desperate bid to keep his reaction under control.

He clenched the thin material of Lea's shirt, so tight he might have ripped a button, and then he pushed the redhead back. "Get out the car."

Lea looked as though he wanted to protest, but all that came out of him was, "Sure." Isa watched as he packed up his cigarette box and lighter. He got out and closed the door, his face already arranged into a tight smile. Lea muttered some sort of apology. However, instead of driving off and leaving him behind (as Lea clearly thought), Isa got out the car too. He walked round the front, face red and jaw squared. Lea held up his palms, but Isa wasn't going to throw a punch.

He took Lea's shirt again, yanked him down a little into a quick kiss. Lea was so thin, as formless as the smoke he smelled of, but Isa had long forgotten how to be gentle. He wrestled himself into Lea's arms; he didn't want any sliver of a gap between their bodies.

"Thank God," Lea breathed, his fingers digging into Isa's sides. "I've wanted to kiss you the minute I saw you."

The stubble was back, up and down his neck in a terrible, professional exercise of torture. Isa let out a groan. "Th-then why didn't you just fucking do it?"

"I don't know," Lea muttered with a grin, bumping noses. "Because you're fucking unapproachable?"

Isa didn't need to say out loud that that this was definitely worth pursuing.

**-x-**

Aqua was up past midnight, cutting out tiny butterflies as part of a spring-themed box frame. It wasn't unusual for her to be so immersed in her works for _Monochrome Chât_ thattime would rush by without her realising. It was, after all, her sanctuary, an adamant truth that hid in her world of lies. Considering _Monochrome Chât_ earned Aqua more than enough money for her to live independently, without relying on Xemnas, he spoke cruelly of it. At Lea's welcoming party, Aqua overheard him describe her business as a 'papier-mâché club', and he always smiled tiredly in her background when Aqua tried to talk about it. That was how Xemnas often escaped the harsh judgment of Silverkey. His contempt of her was cleverly veiled as a exhausted man letting his demanding wife indulge in silly things, and suddenly, it was Aqua who was letting the family down.

She was hoping that with enough work, enough paper shapes, her anger would soon subside and like the hundreds of other occasions Xemnas had upset her, she'd let it go.

She seethed, though. Saix wasn't here for her to vent to either, and that might have been all she needed for this occasion to also slip through the net. Aqua struggled to cut straight, and when the downstairs cuckoo clock quietly chimed twelve, she dropped her scissors, stood up and took a deep breath.

She couldn't let this one go.

Xemnas was reading in bed, his collection of BlackBerrys and work papers on the cabinet nearby. He didn't glance up from his book until Aqua cleared her throat. "What's wrong?" he said. "Go to sleep; it's late."

"Would it kill you to have a scrap of decency?" she said.

Finally, Xemnas shut his book. He sat back against the headboard. "What's this about?"

"Today, when the boys asked if you could drop Hayner off at home." She crossed her arms so that he wouldn't see her shaking hands. "Roxas and Ven rarely ask anything of you, and the moment they do, you crush them like that."

"I had a conference call," Xemnas said simply. He heaved a large sigh as though he was trying to explain calculus to a worm. "It's what I do, Aqua. My job is far more complex than cutting pretty shapes. It isn't a call for an argument. If we need to drop off Hayner every week, I can accommodate that from now on and schedule my calls for a different time. Problem solved. Now stop dithering and come to bed."

Aqua resented how easily her resolve fell apart. With a simple twist on the situation, Xemnas had put himself back in the clear, and any dissent from her now would just make her look unreasonable. She got ready for bed and slid into the covers, switching off the light. Xemnas continued reading for a few minutes, and then he stretched across for the bedside lamp. Aqua watched the bulb fade into the night. Xemnas sighed, flat on his back, a good twelve inches between them.

"…I do think you should have a bit more respect for me," he said after a moment. "Bearing in mind I'm no one's husband or father, I do an awful lot for this family."

Aqua gripped the covers, staring up at the ceiling. "I know; I'm sorry."

"Think how easy it is for me every time I'm on holiday in Wales to just not bother returning." He shifted, rolling onto his side to face her. "I could choose to have a life of my own; I could find a prettier wife and have smarter children. Yet I come back to you and those brats every single day, in gratitude to Eraqus for giving me life. Is that not enough devotion for you? I have brought more money and foundation to this family than Terra could possibly have managed, and that still is not enough?"

Aqua bit her lip. "I'm sorry," she murmured again. "I just…Your anger lies with me, not the boys. I only ask that you leave the boys alone."

She knew he was smiling. Whenever there was silence between them, Xemnas never wasted a moment to hold her in contempt. "You forget so often how I owe you absolutely nothing." He sealed the gap between them, his left arm draping over her waist. He fitted comfortably against her. "Still, indeed you are right. Those boys shouldn't have to bear the brunt of their parents' foolishness."

Aqua closed her eyes, biting hard on her lip. The warmth of his arm spread across her stomach; his breaths touched the curve of her neck. _Please,_ she thought desperately. _No more than that. Not tonight._

She waited for his silence. At least when he was silent, she could pretend. She waited, and like every night when she was the only one left awake in the house, she curled up and pretended it was Terra with her.


	8. Chapter 8

Between shifts of managing the farmhands and running checks on the animals and crops, Liam spent all of his free time wondering what to do about Wednesday – Naminé's seventh birthday. It was difficult to make her day special when she already had everything a little girl could want; on top of that, Arlene was right on the edge of madness. She was going stir crazy from pregnancy hormones, and seeing Naminé so po-faced even on her birthday would probably be just the right amount of leverage to effectively break Arlene too.

Arlene got up at five o'clock that morning. She sat up in bed, her trembling fingers nestled in Liam's hair, as she burst into tears and said she couldn't do it today.

"I'm the last person she wants to see anyway," Arlene had muttered between shaky sobs. She licked and sealed an envelope with a birthday card inside, and she left the house long before Naminé woke up.

Liam made pancakes for breakfast; he even let her have chocolate milk. "Mummy had to leave early to check up on the farm," he said, although Naminé didn't ask about Arlene at all. "But look, she's left you a card and there might even be something in it. Will you say thank you and give her a hug when she comes back tonight?"

Naminé glanced down, at the pink ballet shoes emblazoned on the front of Arlene's card, and she eventually nodded.

"Good girl. All right, this is Daddy's present to you. Ready?" He handed her a box and predictably, the only change in Naminé's expression was a slight furrow of her eyebrows. She took out a set of rollerskates.

"If we leave now, you can wear them to school and change at the gates."

Of course, given his close connections with Ludor Lawrence, Liam could let his daughter go to school in pyjamas if he wanted to and she'd face no trouble. Liam's campaign was still going strong; his hospitality towards Lea Murphy had given him a head start and he had the farming business and primary school backing him. Soon, Liam's campaign would progress to the next marketing stage in the lead up to the town vote. He had to prepare fliers, pamphlets, posters; he had to sell himself without it being galling or forgettable.

This was his one chance to make it big; as soon as he was Mayor, he would have all the power and means to make the town thrive. He could restore the library – Arlene could have an ocean of detective novels to choose from; he could boost tourism and convert the five shabby inns to grand hotels with iron balconies that faced the marshlands. He could create stronger links with Burntcrest, transform Silverkey to more than just a dot at an estuary and, most importantly, as the Mayor, he would have a plethora of suddenly affordable doctors, qualified and knowledgeable.

Liam would stop failing as a father; he'd be able to save his daughter.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, baby?"

Naminé was skating tentatively, attempting to push her feet out at an angle to roll along. She held Liam's hand, her free arm flung out for balance. "Can we have mashed potato for dinner?"

His grip on her tightened. "Of course."

She changed shoes on the approach to school. There were throngs of schoolchildren, none of whom paid a second glance at Naminé. Liam bent down to her height and took her shoulders. "All right, now you have a nice day at school, okay? I'll be here in the afternoon to pick you up."

She nodded. "Daddy?" she said again. She stared down at him, biting her lip as she fought back tears. "I do understand. A-about Kairi."

Liam kissed her forehead and he tensed up, suddenly unable to let her go. She was only seven, for God's sake, and if Liam could take her pain, like a lightning rod any parent would leap to become, he would have destroyed her trauma a long time ago. "I know you understand, baby," he said. "Don't…don't think about that; you just have a good day today. Off you go now, or you'll be late."

He gave her one last kiss and watched her shuffle to the school gates. Liam cringed as she was lost to a sea of running kids and bouncy balls careering down the gentle slope of the playground. A gust of wind could probably knock Naminé over; Liam had half a mind to dash into the playground and deliver her completely to the building.

She stopped and turned, veering off course. Liam watched as Naminé was approached by one of the Allsands boys (Liam had never stopped to learn the difference between the two). His hands clenched the material of his inner pocket as his  
thoughts leapt to taunts and teasing aimed at his little girl. However, there was no malice in the boy's gestures at all. Ienzo Friday had been right – Roxas and Ventus Allsands were Naminé's friends, and despite only being asked to look after her during the occasional lunch, they went out of their way to speak to her in mornings too.

The boy led Naminé back down the playground to his brother and a rubbish cart. Lea Murphy was there, sorting through a variety of brooms while an Allsand twin emptied out an extraordinary amount of sweet wrappers and pencil shavings from his pockets into the bin. Next to him was Isa LeFévre. He seemed to have been taking lessons in being social, for he was missing his default expression of annoyance and was in fact, fighting back a grin.

Naminé was lost to that bubble of colour and noise, a flimsy white sheet amongst the clamour of the twins, Lea's loud voice and his equally loud shirt, a horrific orange vest he was wearing with pride. Isa and Lea stood close to one another, and when Isa decided to leave, his hand lingered on Lea's arm in a subtle move.

Liam's campaign would surely suffer if Xemnas Allsands had resorted to using Isa to tempt Lea to their side, but this hiccup in his plan seemed so insignificant, so irrelevant, at the sight of his pigeon-toed, quiet daughter, talking animatedly with her friends.

He turned to walk west towards the farm.

**-x-**

Naminé thought her birthday would be like all her other birthdays and go unnoticed. However, Mr Friday made a special point of remembering it in morning registration, and he told the class to sing _Happy Birthday_ to her. Her classmates turned left and right with identical expressions, as though they didn't know her. Mr Friday sang the first line, and when the rest of the class only managed a tuneless murmur, Mr Friday prompted them by slamming the board ruler down on his table. They jumped and sang louder, and all the while Naminé stared down at her hands and waited for it to end, Kairi squirmed in her seat in a fit of giggles.

"He's so scary!" Kairi whispered across to her. Naminé nodded in agreement. "So what did you get for your birthday?"

Naminé opened her exercise book and wrote in the date. Although Mr Friday had his back turned to her, and was busy writing on the board, Naminé didn't want to test him. "I'll tell you at break time," she whispered.

Kairi shrugged and began to line up her pencils in size order. They clattered on the hard surface, like hailstones on a roof. Naminé gave her a subtle look.

"I'm sorry," Kairi murmured. She pushed her chair out to rest her arms more comfortably on the table. "I'm just really excited for you. Are Roxas and Ventus your friends now? Isn't that the best birthday present you could ask for?"

Naminé shrugged, but she found it difficult to fight down her hope. The twins were nice to her, even if their parents were at war with one another. She supposed they understood how it felt to have to behave in order for their family to impress the town. Naminé still had the business card from Ven, hidden away in her pencil tin, and during lunchtimes – because she wasn't welcome on the lower school's playground – she stayed in Mr Friday's office and used his computer. She frequently visited _Monochrome Chât_ 's website and looked at the intricate silhouettes of fairies, butterflies and French poetry.

"They're very good, aren't they?" Mr Friday remarked that lunchtime. He sat on the edge of his desk and surveyed Naminé, his hair the same colour as the old newspapers and greying words on his turning bookcase. She fiddled with the wooden nameplate a few inches diagonal to her, tracing _Ienzo Friday, Deputy Headmaster_ , sensing his importance and success. She wondered, not too many days from now, if her father would have a nameplate of his own, a solid marker of how important he was to Silverkey, to Naminé herself.

"Speaking of art, Miss Trepe spoke to me about your class' current project. You're making shoebox miniatures, aren't you? Olette's started a really nice ballroom; have you seen it?"

Naminé nodded. It was quite difficult not to have seen it. Olette had used most of the glitter tubes to decorate the fabric curtains she had cut out for it; anyone who happened to be near her for the remainder of the day wound up with glitter stuck to their clothes and hair. The idea was to join all boxes together at the end to create a house; as such, the class had come up with all kinds of ideas reflective of themselves. Olette was a dancer; a ballroom suited her. Pence, the boy who sat just in front of Naminé in art class, liked mystery stories, so his box was the scene of a crime. He had spent most of their last lesson designing his own police tape.

"You've barely started on your box," said Mr Friday. Naminé knew he was going to raise this. She pursed her lips and stared at the computer monitor. "You've had two lessons already, and Miss Trepe and I were wondering if you're struggling for ideas. We'd like to help."

All Naminé had done with her shoebox was paint it white. After that, she watched how the rest of her classmates could lose themselves in their projects so easily. If Naminé had to recreate herself as a room, surely these whitewashed walls were enough. The minute she tried to explain this to Mr Friday, his visible eye narrowed and he sat back with his arms folded.

"Nonsense, Naminé," he said. "You're deserving of something more complex than a blank wall."

Naminé thought of Dr Newcombe's bare walls, Mummy's ashen face, the bleached memories of the _room_. Her own face was white, her eyelashes and eyebrows fine and colourless.

"Mr Friday doesn't know anything about you," Kairi said after school. Naminé was on the outskirts of the playground, waiting for Daddy to pick her up. "He doesn't understand, but he is right, you know."

Kairi hopped down the painted snake on the tarmac, switching legs for each numbered segment. Naminé waited at the tail, fiddling with one of the buttons of her summer dress. Kairi finished with a cartwheel, standing up before her. "Repeat it: you're more than a white room."

"I…I'm more than a white room," Naminé murmured.

Kairi went on the hopscotch next; tentatively, Naminé followed her. "I have another idea," Kairi said. "For your box, I mean."

"I don't want ideas."

"Yes you do," Kairi reasoned. "You're waiting for the colour to come back, but perhaps it's something you have to do yourself. Only you know where you're broken; that's why no one can fix you."

"My parents are trying their best," Naminé muttered to her hands.

Kairi sat down on one of the picnic benches in the break out area. She combed her fingers through her hair. "The house hasn't got a garden," she said. "Everyone is designing rooms. They're settling for confinement. You can break out of that, Naminé. You can cut down the walls and be different to everyone else that way. Don't you think that's a better representation? Don't let the _room_ have bleached your world; let it have set you free instead."

Naminé chewed her lip. She was still frightened of the _room_ , long after it had been explained, long after she incorporated the _room_ as everyday, ordinary. Kairi watched her think, and smiled slightly when she found a sentence that would convince Naminé completely. "Bringing a garden home to your parents would make them so happy."

Naminé perched on the end of the bench, studying Kairi out the corner of her eye. Kairi was taller, prettier, her whole figure a palette rife with energy. She was everything Naminé was striving to be.

Naminé stared at the space in front of her legs. "…How do I create a garden?"

**-x-**

After their premeditated kiss at the marshlands, Lea's idle thoughts became less about how much he longed for London and more lazy wonderings about Isa. Isa was no-nonsense and had a very innocent air of defensiveness about him. Lea supposed that with his split persona, the fierceness was just an act to keep people, and consequently any hurt and judgment, away.

Lea, with his excessively carefree approach, was in a very similar situation. It was stupid of him to assume his past wouldn't follow him to Silverkey. It caused him great discomfort to know that his history had been revealed to Ludor Lawrence, the Goldsmith-Gardiners and Inspector Leonhart. Although none of them had said anything critical on the matter, Lea felt there was always going to be a degree of judgment. They were normal people, regular people with squeaky clean noses and admirable professions. Saix, at least, could empathise with him somewhat as she was as different as anyone could get and not a stranger to unconventionality.

With all this in mind, Lea wasn't sure how Isa would take his admittance of his stint in jail. Part of him foolishly hoped that he didn't have to tell Isa about it at all, that it was perfectly possible to just gloss over his past as though it didn't matter. But of course, it was completely relevant. For one thing, Lea didn't think he could continue with such big omissions of the truth without feeling he was leading Isa on.

Isa, however, seemed to have reservations of his own. They were round his studio flat, and Lea was helping him change the tablecloth and placemats after spilling wine on them. Isa was rather quiet this evening, and he kept rubbing his left cheek and ear, in an unconscious move Lea knew was from anxiety.

"Everything all right?" Lea asked him. He slid open the balcony doors to smoke – Isa had accommodated his habit by even buying him his own personal ashtray – and he leaned on the railing to watch the quiet village.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you?" Isa gave him a pointed look. "You've been on eggshells around me all night."

Lea exhaled and blew smoke into the night. "I wanted to talk to you. I need to tell you something about me, but it might not be the best time. Seriously, man, you look really worried."

"It's Aqua, I guess," Isa said after a moment's thought. He wrapped his arms around himself and pursed his lips. "I was talking to her today and…well, she didn't think it was such a good idea. You know, me seeing you."

Lea took a long drag from his cigarette and masked his hurt with that lazy move. "She doesn't trust me."

"It's not that. It's complicated."

"I'll try to understand."

Isa turned to face him. It could have just been the moonlight highlighting the sharp contours of his cheeks, but he was suddenly formidable, stony. "What do you know about Xemnas?"

"What?" Lea said through his teeth. He reached up to take out his cigarette but Isa got there first. He squashed the butt against the ashtray with an irritated grunt. "Isa, you've asked me this before—"

Isa dragged him back inside, wrenching the sliding doors shut. They stumbled onto the bed, and Lea was pushed down to his elbows, his head resting awkwardly against the wall. Isa semi-straddled him, fists clenched against Lea's shirt. "You listen to me," Isa said. "What I'm about to tell you doesn't leave this room. Promise me."

"I-I promise. Lighten up with the violence, will you? Fuck, you're heavy—"

"No, listen. If you breathe a word of what I'm about to tell you, I will send you out of Silverkey in a coffin. Do you hear me?"

Lea nodded. It was about all he could manage when Isa was glaring down at him. He watched, a little unnerved, as Isa wetted his lips and ducked so that their foreheads touched. "Look…I really like you," he murmured. "I…Some days, I just sit around waiting for your shift to finish so that I can call you. You have this kind of freedom about you that…I don't know, it rubs off on me."

There was no happiness to his confession; in fact, when Lea closed his eyes and just felt the whispers of his words, they tasted miserable, frightened.

"This is how it starts," muttered Isa. "Before too long, we'll want nothing but each other."

Lea wrapped his arms round Isa, hoping doing such a thing would push his fears away. Isa was fretting over the idea of a serious relationship, which was understandable for someone so new to it. Over a series of evenings together, Lea had taught Isa to kiss better, to hold hands and touch his waist, his arms, his chest – all without being so nervous and uptight about it. The concept of falling in love was terrifying him.

"Hey, it's all right. You've got the choice of a time out if things are moving too quickly for your liking."

"It's not that I have a problem with. What we're doing now; it's happened before." Isa sat back, hands running down Lea's chest. They were freezing cold. "Come on, you told me yourself. Xemnas only acts like he has a family when it suits him. That's because he doesn't have a family. He's an alter, Lea."

His grip tightened, and with the weight of Isa's body pushing him one way and the cold wall digging in his head, Lea's mind ran riot with the revelation. He shot back to his first week in Silverkey, rifling through his memories of Aqua. She had been so sad the whole time. His head snapped up as he recalled her mention of her father, Eraqus. He had treated two patients. Aqua had only ever spoken about Isa; she hadn't said anything about the second patient at all.

" _What_?"

"Aqua's real husband is Terra Allsands; he's also Roxas and Ven's dad. Terra was like me – he was part of a trafficking ring, but he was in it longer than I was. Eraqus saved us and worked to create an alter to cut off the trauma. He built Saix for me, and Xemnas for Terra."

Lea lay still. His hands rested on Isa's thighs, occasionally running up and down them, and such a position could have been a prelude to intimacy, but he knew Isa had pinned him in unconscious worry that Lea would turn tail and run. "A-and the twins? Do they know?"

Isa sighed, raking his hair. "Roxas definitely knows. Ven's a bit more debatable; he can probably work it out but Roxas tries to protect him."

Lea pursed his lips. He suddenly felt winded. "…Where's Terra?"

"He's gone." Isa chewed his lip, as though he was still reeling from the news. "Terra was being treated by Eraqus but it was falling for Aqua that saved him. Terra wanted out of the treatment – you know, he didn't want a personality to balance his trauma. It was irreversible though. The wall between Terra and Xemnas wasn't strong to begin with and all it took was Xemnas realising he could exist as much as Terra did, and when Terra and Aqua eloped, it was the last straw. We didn't get a warning. Eraqus switched Terra out like normal – alters are called with triggers – and Xemnas came in. Alters are supposed to fade after a duration that's enough to keep the original self in balance, but Xemnas didn't. He stayed for four days, then a week, a month. Before we knew it, Terra was lost. That was ten years ago."

Lea sat up to close the gap between them. He kissed the curve of Isa's jaw. "I never really cared before," Isa muttered, stifling a groan as Lea's kisses travelled south. "You know, I'd go back to the Allsands house each time for Aqua to switch me over, and I wouldn't care if Saix somehow found a way to take complete control and end me. I hate this village; I hate being a freak. But it's different now, with you. I have a reason to keep coming back, you know?" He kissed Lea fiercely. "I keep thinking, what if I end up like Terra? What if I lose to my own body, like him?"

"You won't," Lea said. "You and Saix have been balanced for this long, right? It'll be fine. Look at me."

Isa did, although he could only hold a gaze for a second before looking away. He seemed to fare better when staring at Lea's chest, fingers tracing each rib in turn. He seemed uncomfortable, perhaps wondering if he should have revealed so much. Lea was powerless in the wake of it. He didn't understand anything about alters and their science; he couldn't guarantee anything about the wall staying up, not really.

"You know what I think?" Lea said after a minute. He pushed his hands out and gripped the back of Isa's thighs, easing him so that Isa lay comfortably on him. He ran his fingers through Isa's hair; it was sleek and long, nothing like his matted mess. "I think you're less worried about being taken over by your alter, and more concerned about the fact you're in a happy relationship. I mean, it's new stuff for you; you're bound to get worked up about it."

Isa frowned at him. He stopped playing a silent tune against Lea's collarbone. "I never said anything about being new; you can't make obnoxious statements like that."

"Uh…you didn't need to say anything for me to know it," Lea said, around a grin. "Don't worry," he added, sitting up a little to steal a kiss. "I've taught you well." He cleared his throat, a bit too comfy beneath Isa like this. He shifted his hips. "Listen, you better get off me before this becomes a _really_ happy relationship."

Isa flushed and then rolled off. He made a point by shunting right to the other end of the bed. As Lea sat up, Isa tossed a pillow at him in a perfect cross of annoyance and affection. "I'm not completely new," he muttered.

"Give it a rest." Lea stretched out on the bed, legs draping across Isa's lap. "You're talking about it as if it fucking matters."

Isa's hands rested on the fabric of Lea's trousers. He looked as though he wanted to dispute this point, but he patted his leg instead. "…Didn't you want to tell me something? You wanted to talk."

Lea waved a hand, disguising his anxiety with an easy grin. "Fuck it. It's a proper mood killer."


	9. Chapter 9

Arlene Goldsmith had got to the phase where she didn't even need to look at _Seventh Heaven_ 's menu to know what food was on offer and for how much. The pub had been around longer than she had, and was a very frequent marker of events in Arlene's life. _Seventh Heaven_ was where she and Liam had their first and second date; it was also their rendezvous point for any journeys out of town; later on, the pub became Liam's sanctuary when they rowed and he needed to get some air.

Of course, as the new manager taking over for her father, Tifa Lockhart courted variety and rearranged the menus and interior as often as she could, but like a family's Christmas tree, even with new decorations its fundamental base never changed. The pub's special was always fish and chips; its booths were always to the left and at the back. The lights were always orange, and it was always Liam who sat next to her.

They arrived at _Seventh Heaven_ with the intention of meeting Aeleus Mason for lunch. Aeleus was happy to escape his quiet office for a bit, although he had given a clear ultimatum that the meeting was not an opportunity for Liam to plug his campaign. While Aeleus was good friends with them and the Allsands – no one thought it wise to mess with a lawyer, after all – he was steadfastly neutral in Silverkey's affairs, and any mention of either campaign made Aeleus stare at them the way a pro wrestler might look at a boisterous kitten.

"Horrific weather today," said Aeleus. He shook his umbrella and squeezed into their chosen booth, easily taking up two seats.

"It's supposed to brighten up this afternoon." Liam beckoned for Tifa to take Aeleus' coat and they ordered their food. Arlene wasn't overly hungry so she settled for just skinny chips. Aeleus, on the other hand, went for a large fish finger sandwich; now that he was promised with food, his mood became less gruff and more sociable.

"I recall it was Naminé's birthday last week; I realise it's belated but I do have a card for her." Aeleus snapped open his briefcase and took out a blue envelope.

"You're very kind to remember," said Arlene. She could feel a few pound coins in with the card.

Aeleus waved a hand dismissively. "It's the same day as my brother's," he explained. "You know, it never ceases to amaze me how you two could produce someone so meek. How is she doing at school these days?"

Arlene fidgeted under the table, feet playing in her shoes. Liam sensed her discomfort and chose to answer, "She's actually doing a lot better now. Ienzo Friday goes out of his way to help her, and she's also quite keen on Lea Murphy."

"The thuggish cleaner?" said Aeleus, sitting back a bit. Arlene was secretly glad Aeleus had a similar initial reaction to her. "I would have thought he'd terrify her; he looks like the stuff of nightmares."

"Yes, that's what I thought too," Arlene said, around a thin smile. She didn't elaborate, but she was certain someone as smart as Aeleus was questioning the logic of it as well. After all, what could a tattooed ex-con possibly have done, that her own parents hadn't tried or tested for the last two years?

"He seems nice enough, even if he has no sense of public decorum," Aeleus remarked. "The Allsands have already integrated him in their family though. That stroppy one – Isaiah – is actually going out with him. God knows how that works with his alternate personality in the middle of it." Aeleus looked round, presumably for his fish finger sandwich. "Maybe it's a stunt for votes; who knows. I wouldn't put it past Xemnas to play dirty, though."

Arlene pursed her lips. They had promised not to harp on about the campaign, so Liam adhered to this by steering the conversation to Aeleus' soft-spoken wife. Arlene didn't give a toss about Mrs Mason's fever and how she kept losing her antibiotics; her thoughts remained – as usual – on the campaign. Xemnas was ploughing on ahead with Lea as one of his apparent supporters. It was a clever move, to have someone as unpleasant as Isaiah LeFévre won over by him, therefore proving to the village how likeable Lea Murphy was and how well the Allsands could welcome someone new.

Arlene was quite glad when her skinny chips turned up to distract her, for she had half a mind to say just what kind of person Lea Murphy really was. She was one up on the Allsands, really; they just didn't know it. Arlene had seen Lea's history before he became their tenant; she knew things about that tattooed freak that would make even Aqua Allsands' pretty hair curl.

Liam maintained a light-hearted conversation for the duration of their lunch. He talked about the crops, the football, and then he ended with an open ended suggestion that when Mrs Mason was feeling better, the four of them could go for dinner in Burntcrest. Arlene was sincerely hoping this idea would fall through.

When Aeleus left, their booth felt considerably empty. Liam slid his arm over Arlene's shoulders and together, they watched the rain dribble down the windowpane. She was deep in thought and Liam seemed to be conscious of this. He ordered a pot of tea for them and let her find a happy medium between her desperation and pragmatism.

She crossed her arms, focusing on the empty space in front of her. Liam's hand moved up and down her arm. He was attempting to think up of his next move too, but perhaps not nearly as seriously as her. Perhaps it was just her pregnancy hormones going into overdrive, but she couldn't stop thinking about what Aeleus had said about Isaiah LeFévre and his split persona. Surely if there was a weakness of Xemnas' to exploit, that was it.

Arlene felt her walls come down, where she had confined herself to at least be a decent competitor. She bit on her lip as a plan came to mind. Xemnas knew how to play dirty, but then again, so did she.

She turned a little. Liam gave her an idle kiss, since the opportunity was there. "Where did Eraqus live before he moved to Silverkey?"

Liam looked up, thinking. "Uh…Wiltshire, I think. Why?"

**-x-**

In his prime, Yen Sid was a respected psychiatrist who worked closely with Wiltshire Police to assist victims and survivors of abuse. In all his years, people never stopped surprising him with new and creative ways to destroy fellow human beings. One year before he took to quiet retirement, he embarked on one last case in the form of treating Terra Allsands and Isaiah Lefèvre.

That was thirteen years ago, but Yen Sid never forgot those boys' faces or the story they told. They were both French orphans, and had been handpicked and abducted by a trafficking organisation for their appearance. Isaiah had been nine years old, of which three had been spent being routinely abused and sold on. Terra had been eighteen and soon proved irreparable. Thirteen years of Terra's life had been dedicated to cruel and unspeakable abuse; it had rendered him into an unquestioning, lifeless slave who thought he was little more than an animal. Yen Sid remembered how in their first counselling session, Terra kept thinking something was owed of him. He asked to be told what to do; that Yen Sid was there to help him was an idea too radical, too improbable, to even think.

Yen Sid's colleague, the late Eraqus Liang, worked tirelessly to save them both. Yen Sid supposed that there was a degree of guilt from both the psychiatric team and the police, for failing to break the organisation earlier. Eraqus' practice had changed in recognition of his guilt, and he devised a way that would make his patients not live with the trauma, but forget it completely.

Isaiah excelled and traded the trauma for a secondary personality. His 'alter' came in the form of a female named Saix, a brand new persona who only had the deepest muscle memory from Isa as her base. She could walk and talk, but there was nothing else to her. Eraqus told Saix some necessary lies to maintain that wall between her and Isaiah. Saix believed she suffered from amnesia and deep sleep; Isaiah, in the meantime, with Saix to balance him out, grew up as an adjusted, and somewhat pompous, individual.

Poor Terra Allsands, however, was too far gone for there to ever be a successful wall between him and his alter. He didn't have the strength to support it. Instead, Terra and his secondary personality, Xemnas, were aware of one another right from the beginning. When Aqua and Terra disregarded Xemnas as just a phase, an odd quirk they could reverse through Eraqus, they married and soon expected twins. Xemnas deemed this too much of an abuse of 'their' body and without warning, he took complete control. Eraqus failed Terra and moreover, his daughter was now married to a complete stranger.

Yen Sid didn't hear from Eraqus Liang after that. All he knew was that the tired psychiatrist called in a favour with the police, and then the whole family moved out of Wiltshire and cut any ties with it. As for Yen Sid, the case of Terra and Isaiah made retirement all the more tempting, and he finished his career within the year. He took up solitary hobbies, like making bug boxes and completing crosswords, and he closed the door on that chapter of his life. He ended his psychiatric career altogether, if it meant he didn't have to think about those poor boys again.

Consequently, it was quite a shock when one afternoon, he hobbled to his phone and answered to a high, nasal voice of a woman called Arlene Goldsmith, asking for his help.

**-x-**

Aqua never thought she'd live to see the day when Isa actually treated her like she was his mother. He was due to be switched into Saix, but he arrived a few hours early and asked if Lea could stay over for dinner. Lea was already there, hanging around in their front garden and pretending to be very interested in their bird box. Considering Isa was twenty-two and Aqua was only ten years older than him, she didn't know whether to find the situation endearing or downright embarrassing.

"Of course he can stay; you don't need to ask," she said. "Come on in, Lea."

And perhaps to subtly poke fun at Isa, Lea grinned at Aqua as he wiped his worn boots on the doormat. "Thanks for having me, Mrs Allsands."

She smacked his shoulder and closed the door behind him. "I've only just turned the oven on but I'm doing a stew for dinner. I hope that's okay."

"It sounds great," said Lea. "How are you?"

"I'm well," she said, realising she meant it. She could see Roxas and Ven at the foot of the stairs, waiting hopefully for Lea's attention to turn to them. Isa, however, was having none of it and was hissing for them to go away. "It's always busy in this house with the twins and Pluto," Aqua elaborated. "Careful, he's right behind you."

Lea turned to see the spaniel sniffing his shoes, and he picked him up, scratching his ears. "Ah, look at that face. You're so cute I could die. Who's a good boy?"

"Lea, don't wave Pluto around the kitchen." Isa pulled his arm and directed him to the living room. "Just sit there a minute; I think Roxas wants to show you some level in his computer game anyway."

Aqua had the perfect view from where she stood at the cooker, able to see past Isa, across the corridor and into the living room. Lea still hadn't put down Pluto, and in fact, was about to get very comfortable on the sofa with him until Roxas scolded him for it. "No pets on the furniture!"

Isa rolled his eyes and leaned against the island, picking up an orange from the fruit bowl and debating whether or not to eat it. "Apparently, Roxas and Ven harass Lea at school as well, when he's trying to do his job."

"He's a nice person; they can sense that." Aqua tied on her apron and smiled at Isa. He was fidgeting with his shirt and kept glancing back at the living room, at the sound of Lea's voice, and for a moment, Aqua could see shades of Terra in him, like someone who simply couldn't believe his luck.

"And you?" asked Isa. "Are you all right with him? I mean, I know you don't like us together."

"I have my reservations," she replied mildly. "I won't be rolling up my sleeves and fighting you over it, though." She began to chop up the potatoes. "I made my mistakes with Terra, but I'd rather have done that than not done anything at all. It's tough but worth it. And Isa," she added. "The wall between you both is nothing like the wall between Xemnas and Terra. It's sturdy."

"Speaking of which, where is Xemnas?"

"Still at work," Aqua replied. "He won't be back until later tonight."

Isa managed a thin smile; it was an expression Aqua couldn't quite read. She had no time to dwell on Isa's thoughts, however, when Ven bounded into the kitchen and waved his handheld console at her. "Mum, I'm stuck. Roxas is _two_ levels ahead of me. He said we'd play through it together but he won't wait. Do this bit; I can't do it."

He tried to thrust the small console into Aqua's hands, but she put an oven glove between them. "Two minutes, Ven. Just let me get the potatoes done and I'll be right with you."

She worked at double time, clearing the peel and bundling all the ingredients into a cooking dish older than she was. Thankfully, Isa opted to help out, although this seemed to be stemmed from another attempt to ask for her honesty. "What kind of reservations?" he prompted. "If you think Saix and I are balanced out okay, then where's your concern really?"

Aqua pressed her lips together. She wished she hadn't been so efficient with the cooking, for now she had nothing to hide behind. "I…I don't know, Isa, I just suspect Silverkey might not be suited to Lea."

"Says who?" Isa shot back.

She sighed. "Says Lea himself. For God's sake, don't say anything. I only know because I heard him at his welcome party weeks ago complaining about it to Saix. You never know, he might have a different opinion now; the village might have grown on him."

"But?" Isa said. "You clearly think otherwise."

Aqua raked her hair. She hated arguing with Isa; it was like trying to wriggle a sock out of a Rottweiler's mouth. "Well, look at him, Isa. He's clearly a city boy. I don't know what happened to him in London, but switching to village life isn't the right solution, and you know it too. He'll leave Silverkey in due time, Isa, and I'm afraid you can't follow him out, not while I look after your trigger."

Isa bit his lip and rested his elbows on the counter, back hunched like he was expecting something to land on him. "…I wish we could all just leave," he muttered. "Couldn't you just pack your bags and take the boys to Paris? You could leave Xemnas here – he's the only one who wants to stay in Silverkey – and live the life you've always wanted to."

She shook her head. After ten years of solid practice, she was an expert at culling that temptation. "I can't leave him behind. It breaks my heart just to think Terra might resurface and he'll find all of us gone. I can't," she repeated. "I promised I'd never leave him."

"Oh really? Just like Terra promised you?" Isa returned. He straightened up and took a deep breath through his nose. "Sorry. That was rude of me."

"It was." Aqua twisted the inside fabric of her apron's pockets. "Terra faced a lot of internal struggles every day. We can't even begin to comprehend what that must have been like. Don't disregard him like that; don't think even for a minute that he isn't capable of fighting back."

Isa managed a tight smile. He was probably thinking the same prickly thoughts as her – it had been ten years since they had seen Terra, and it was kinder now to not set expectations for him – but Isa didn't dare voice them. Aqua patted his upper arm. "Come on, Lea is probably wondering where we are."

She took a deep breath and put her concerns aside on hold, remembering she had to be a video game whiz now. "All right, Ven, pass it here. Let's smash this level."

Ven was slumped on the sofa, moaning and groaning into a cushion. "It's too late, Mum. That was more than two minutes! Roxas cheated and he's got Mr Murphy doing the levels for him now."

" _I_ cheated?" Roxas exclaimed. He nearly fell off the armrest in annoyance. "You went and asked Mum first…!"

"Yeah, and for the record, the name's Lea. Got it memorised?" Lea's eyes were glued to the screen as he took Roxas through the game. Pluto was sprawled out across Lea's feet, apparently doing his part to keep Lea in their home.

Aqua sat on the sofa and patted Ven's legs away. "Come on, little man. Lea can't be as good as me." She took his console and restarted the level. Aqua wasn't one to blow her own trumpet, yet raising her boys had given her a broad set of skills she could be proud of. She was first and foremost a paper artist and housewife, but all those minutes between her job and chores had earned her a reputable talent in playing video games, catching balls, tuning a violin, preparing and using a water pistol, and even memorising movie lines and voices so that she could participate in the boys' dramas.

Ven had long given up trying to function like a normal person, and was burying his face in Aqua's stomach while muttering, "It's impossible," over and over again. Aqua thought she'd have more luck at the game if Ven wasn't distracting her with this, but she succeeded on her second try. She was getting dangerously comfortable, and she kept reminding herself there were potatoes in the oven and she was supposed to be hosting a good dinner for Lea.

Isa didn't carry the weight of their earlier conversation in with him. Instead, he masked his hurt with haughtiness and leaned on the back of Lea's armchair, trying to give tips like a meddling aunt.

"You do it then, if you're so clever," Lea said, but Roxas grabbed his console.

"Are you kidding? Isa's rubbish. I feel safer giving it to Pluto."

Just then, the five of them were silenced by the sound of the business phone ringing. Aqua waved away Isa's offer to answer it. She paused Ven's game. "Uh…Lea, sorry to be a pain. Could you take over Ven's game and try and get him up to speed?"

Lea took the console. "No problem."

Aqua ran upstairs, her mind addled with incongruent thoughts of potatoes and extra lives. She seized the phone and scrabbled for her professional voice. "Good evening, _Monochrome Chât_ Paper Crafts, this is Aqua speaking."

There was such a significant pause on the other end of the line, Aqua glanced back at the phone's display to see if she was still connected.

"Hi Aqua," said a voice finally. "…It's Liam Gardiner."

**-x-**

Like many people before her, Aqua Allsands voiced her wariness of Liam through silence alone. It was a short moment that spoke volumes, that made perfectly clear this was the kind of phone call that should not be happening one week before the Mayoral vote.

"I uh…I think this must be some sort of political breach," said Aqua. "I thought our families – the adults at least – had an unspoken agreement not to um, fraternise."

"Yes, you're quite right. Any pleasantries could have ulterior motives." Liam sat back in his chair, chewing on a clump of his hair. "I'm not ringing as a rival, though, more in my capacity as a stressed out parent."

"Okay," said Aqua, her voice lightening with empathy. "How can I help you, Mr Gardiner?"

Liam rested the house phone in the crook of his neck and leaned forwards to use the scroll button on the family computer. "I wanted to call you in the hopes of arranging a commission. Not one of your er… _Super Deluxe Personalised Box Frame_ commissions, mind you," he added, reeling at the price of that option. "Are you free to discuss?"

"Y-yes," Aqua said quickly. There was some shuffling around and then she cleared her throat. "Sorry I'm so unprepared. My commissions usually go out of Silverkey, you see. Um…I have various forms depending on which product you're interested in; I can drop them off at your place tomorrow. If you have any queries, I can help you."

"I was looking at the standard size box frame." Liam continued to browse _Monochrome Chât_ 's website. "I have to say, your work is absolutely fantastic."

"That's very kind of you to say," Aqua murmured. "The standard box frame is ninety-nine pounds. The form enables you to submit your themes and ideas, and I'll have an A4 design in a week. From there, the estimated time to complete it would be one month."

"Perfect," Liam said. "I look forward to receiving the form tomorrow."

"C-can I help with anything else?"

"That's it." Although Liam spoke with finality, neither of them hung up. Somehow, Aqua knew. She seemed to understand that someone like Liam Gardiner would not ever do anything without some sort of hidden motive, and she was right. What Aqua was perhaps way off par with, however, was that Liam's true intentions were not malicious at all. He had stopped wearing his Mayoral hat for the day and was slowly but surely opening his eyes to what really was doing good to his daughter.

"Actually, while you're here," said Liam, "I wanted to say something."

"Oh?" Aqua said, politely letting his terrible attempt at spontaneity slide past her.

"Your boys." Liam ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his temple. He had rehearsed this speech and yet, the minute he needed to say it, all his talents for loquaciousness just collapsed, like loose change tumbling down a drain. "They're good kids," he recovered. "I'm sure you already know that, but I felt it necessary to express my sentiments. Your sons have been kind to my daughter. Naminé's not an easy child, and she's always had to battle some classmates for being too quiet, too different; still, her arriving at school in the mornings and getting to spend even fifteen minutes with Roxas and Ventus, o-or having lunch with them – it changes her. I think it makes her day."

He closed the browser window of his computer, making sure to delete the internet history lest Arlene discovered he too, was a fan of Aqua's work. "Maybe the campaigns have alerted her existence to the right people." He raked his hair again, only just managing to keep a sigh under control. "I don't know, this might be the one good thing to come out of the election."

He stretched out in his chair and was rewarded with a moment of silence. Then, Aqua spoke softly, with the start of a laugh. "I'm starting to wonder if this really is Liam Gardiner."

"Hey, this all comes under the umbrella of stressed out parent, remember?"

"Well, I'm not sure if I can take complete credit for Roxas and Ven, but you and Naminé are very welcome. As long as there's no hostility between their parents once the vote comes through, I'm sure their friendship will carry on."

Liam was quite glad Aqua couldn't see him roll his eyes at the mere thought of Xemnas. That guy had seriously set the bar high for being an egotistical twat.

"Is the box frame for Naminé?" Aqua asked, perhaps noting Liam's silence this time.

"Naturally. I'm sorry to say that Arlene would most likely consider your work as witchcraft."

Aqua laughed again, and now it was Liam's turn to wonder if it was really her on the other line. She always looked so forlorn when Liam saw her, like she had lost something and was struggling to remember what. She had an odd, hesitant smile, and the way she held Xemnas' arm at gatherings and promotions was nothing to do with affection and everything to do with her just filling up the empty space.

"Anyway, I shall fill in the form for the box frame tomorrow. Tell you what, to save you a journey, why not give it to whichever one of your twins is most reliable, and he can pass it to Naminé to take home."

"That sounds great; I'll do that." Aqua muttered something to herself and then swore under her breath. "Sorry, I have to go. I think my potatoes are burning."

"I won't keep you," Liam finished. "Have a good night, Mrs Allsands."

"Goodnight, Mr Gardiner."

They hung up and Liam let out a long exhale. Carefully, he shrugged off any guilt he might have from a phone call like that (he wasn't sure why he felt guilty – it wasn't as though he had committed a crime) and went downstairs to the kitchen. Arlene was cutting apples for their dessert, so Liam reached in the fridge to pour himself some water and said, "You smell good."

"Ha ha," said Arlene, rifling through their spice rack for cinnamon. "Very smooth." She washed her hands free of apple peel and kissed Liam's cheek. "Who were you on the phone to?"

"Aeleus," Liam replied.

"Really," said Arlene. She shooed him out of the way to check on the vegetables. "By the way, I'm going to Cornwall tomorrow."

"Get out of here." Liam hugged her from behind, bending down to press his lips to her neck. "You wouldn't go to Cornwall, not with all those tourists."

"I'm as likely to be in Cornwall as you are to have rung Aeleus when he's liable to be eating his dinner right this minute. No one in their right mind would try that." She turned round, back to the cooker and her arms sliding to wrap round his shoulders. "So who were you really on the phone to?"

"Aqua." Liam didn't bother sugarcoating it. "Where are you really off to tomorrow?"

"Wiltshire." Arlene ducked out of his arms and decided to take her frustrations out on an innocent cucumber instead, hacking it into cubes for the salad. "Oh my God, Liam, what are you up to."

"What am _I_ up to?" he snapped. "I was thanking her for having kids who don't bully our daughter. What about you? If you think going to Wiltshire will get you some last minute dirt on the Allsands, please…just give it up. The vote's in one week and I can't have you stomping around for information and probably destroying a world heritage in the process; I need you here. Come on, baby, we've done enough for the campaign now. All we can do is publish the fliers and let the town decide."

He took her shoulders, trying to massage the tenseness out of them. He could hear Arlene taking deeper breaths than normal, so it was not insensible of him to assume his continued affections would make him see the same end as that cucumber. He let go of her.

"No," said Arlene. "No, I'm not 'giving it up'. You've done your bit, but I'm not finished. We have to be absolutely certain we're going to win the election. The bloody Allsands can keep their criminal friend Murphy; we'll find our advantage elsewhere. I'm going to Wiltshire tomorrow," she said decisively.

"I don't know what you're plotting, but keep Lea Murphy out of it." Liam watched as the vegetable pot began to steam in tandem with her temper. "He's done a lot for Naminé too."

Arlene laughed, which was never really the most pleasant of sounds. Her envy of Lea's success with getting through to Naminé showed in an elaborately cruel form; she sneered at the mention of his name, scoffed at him. It didn't matter if Lea had meant it or not – he had humiliated and highlighted Arlene as a failed mother, and that was not something she'd so easily forgive just because Liam asked her to.

"If that tattooed convict wants to side with the Allsands, that's fine with me. I can use him. He can finally have a purpose in Silverkey." She seized a knife and Liam seriously considered running out of the kitchen. Arlene rammed the knife through the heart of a cauliflower. "But over my dead body will that purpose have anything to do with saving my daughter."

She took a deep breath to calm herself. "Is the table set? I asked Naminé."

"I'll check." Liam crossed the hall to their dining room. Naminé was such a tiny figure, framed by the high ceiling and panelled walls. She was waiting in her seat for dinner, her feet were wrapped round the wooden frame of her chair and fingers knotted together. The table was set out before her, perfectly laid out save for one enormous flaw: she had set it up for four people.

Liam hesitated, but he knew he had to act. This wasn't the sort of thing Arlene could handle right now, when the campaign had brought her enough stress to turn to something as extreme as a journey to Wiltshire. He walked over to Naminé, his hand on her head. "Baby, you said you understood. Remember?" He wet his lips and knelt down so he could look up at her. She was guilty, embarrassed. Liam wished he didn't have to keep having this conversation; it broke him to see her like this.

"She wants to try the apple crumble," Naminé muttered to her placemat.

Liam stroked her hair, and he mustered all the strength he could find not to let his disappointment show. "And how can she try it? Kairi's not real, baby."


	10. Chapter 10

Arlene had found a strong ally in Inspector Leonhart, who wound up producing more results in one day than Dr Newcombe had in two years. Of course, Leonhart didn't see much worth at all to the name Yen Sid, but that was what he had earned from calling the right people in the police, and all without disturbing the many traps Superintendent Hewley set up. Since Eraqus Liang was too dead for Arlene to interrogate about the workings of the split persona, she had targeted his colleague instead, a reclusive old man who lived in Wiltshire and going by police notes, had chosen retirement when the case in question had proved too distressing.

Travelling in such early hours of the morning meant there was hardly any traffic. For any regular driver, this would have been a godsend, but Arlene missed the presence of other cars and their accompanying opportunities where she could shout and honk the horn at bad drivers and L and P plates alike. She tore down the motorway, preferring to leave the radio off (its default was a horrible blues station Liam loved) and only peppering the silence with some choice cusses whenever she got stopped by a red light.

She hadn't given Liam the complete story of her intentions in Wiltshire, but that was effectively how their relationship worked. They didn't seal their loyalty to one another with a marriage certificate; they had a firmer bond, in the shape of their fragile daughter. Liam trusted that everything Arlene did was for the sake of their baby girl, and vice versa.

Arlene had to go to Wiltshire. It had the keys to the kingdom; ascertaining them would get the Mayoral vote in their favour. And with the title of Mayor, Liam had access to all the doctors they needed to help Naminé. The fact that Arlene's plan would in all likelihood lift the lid on Lea Murphy's sordid past – that was just an added bonus.

She drove into Aylesbury and headed down a maze of country lanes running neck to neck with thin streams, before turning into a small town called Drift Mill. It seemed the kind of place that would be home to the elderly; the streets were quiet and felt heavy with isolation. Like Silverkey, the townspeople were familiar with one another, such that when Arlene pulled up just off their high street, she caught them exchanging thin smiles when her heels struggled with the cobbled pavement. "Fuck all of you," she hissed under her breath.

Drift Mill's streets and its inhabitants were old enough, but it was nothing in comparison to Dr Yen Sid's house. It was little more than a glorified pantry, its walls divided with crooked bookshelves of clutter and old trinkets of sentimental value. There were book towers all round his living room where the shelf space had run out, and it proved an impossible task for Arlene to cross the threshold to her designated armchair without knocking them over.

Yen Sid himself looked about as old as his belongings, his shoulders covered in the same thin layer of dust where days had escaped him. He had an unbearably strong smell about him, as though he had been eating nothing but peppermint for the last twenty years, and Arlene had to make a conscious effort not to let the displeasure show on her face. She needn't worry, though, for Yen Sid soon proved he couldn't see much further beyond his nose. Their small talk was initially forced, as Arlene worked in a few lies to cover her true intentions. She told Yen Sid she had only come up from Oxford, and that she had been given his and Eraqus Liang's names through an old friend in the police; she made no admittance of her true familiarity with the two psychiatrists' work on the split persona.

She filtered in some truth, however, that made Yen Sid's eyes soften with understanding. "I'm so sorry to hear about your daughter," he said. "I daresay you have seen so many occasions where you wish you could have taken the suffering in her place."

Arlene sat up straight, channelling nothing but calmness through her. She only had one shot at extracting the information she needed, and as a pretty and sympathetic mother, she had a strong advantage over this old and lonely man. She could see he was bitter about the case being brought up again; it was likely that Yen Sid had spent many years wishing it away. "The detective told me you might be able to help my daughter. Your method had succeeded in sealing off your patient's trauma completely."

"Yes, it did," Yen Sid replied, stroking his ridiculously long beard in thought. "But…Well, Miss Goldsmith, I regret to say that it has a record of failure, too."

"Your other patient," said Arlene. "The detective told me there existed another patient, and I understand he wasn't successful. However, I'm only interested in the one who was healed. How does it work? Would it work on someone like my daughter?"

Yen Sid heaved a big sigh that seemed to rattle his whole body. "It is a very deep and intrusive procedure, as you can imagine halving someone's mind might be. For the successful patient, Isaiah, it took a year for the split to form. It was gruelling for both him and us, but we did effectively banish his suffering. Isaiah's trauma was clear cut, and this was what accelerated the process. In your daughter's case, it may not be as obvious as to where to draw the divide. Her trauma is complex, and even if it was deemed a plausible route for your daughter, without Eraqus Liang it just isn't possible."

Arlene tried to look disappointed with the news, but she hadn't come for such a solution for Naminé. She didn't want Naminé to get a secondary personality; she wanted Kairi gone. "So as far as you know, has the treatment been effective for Isaiah? How is he?"

Yen Sid stroked his beard, looking up as if the answer was there. Arlene could feel her temper bubbling beneath the surface of her skin, fighting down the temptation to just seize the frail bag of wrinkles and shout for the information she needed. However, a glassy-eyed look came across Yen Sid, as though Arlene's question had prompted him into a short spell of nostalgia.

"It's difficult to say," he said after a minute, talking slower than ever. Arlene half-wondered if she could yank his beard into a crank of sorts and wind him up like a toy. "Eraqus was distraught when the first patient's wall crumbled. You could say it broke him to see what his efforts had done." He sighed, massaging his temples. "Eraqus left Wiltshire…hmm, it must have been about ten years ago now. We never kept in contact, but as far as I'm aware, Isaiah's treatment put a permanent seal on his trauma. Strange concept isn't it," Yen Sid mused, his back clicking as he remembered his tea and stretched for it. (Arlene had decided the moment she came in to touch as little of Yen Sid's belongings as possible, so her tea was stone cold next to his.) "Just so strange how easily you can mould a mind, like it's something malleable, like it's an object you think you actually have the right to violate."

"I don't think teachers would phrase it like that," Arlene replied, "but I understand what you mean."

"That was essentially what we did with Isaiah. Our intentions may have been good, but the fact remains we toyed with his mind and memories. I never really thought about it until after I retired – the sheer amount of hypnosis and trigger tests we put him through."

Arlene was close. She was so close to snatching the keys from him. "Trigger tests? Like…like choosing how to switch the patient's personality?"

"Yes," Yen Sid said tiredly. "We did a lot of research on just how survivors of abuse are commonly triggered by sights, smells, certain phrases, a seemingly random occurrence that drags them back. With Isaiah, we couldn't let him accidentally be switched, so we ensured the trigger was obscure. This much we did, if it can be said we helped him at all."

Arlene licked her lips and steadied herself, like a lioness trying not to frighten her prey. "Dr Yen Sid," she said carefully. "What was the trigger?"

**-x-**

Isa was still trying to get used to the fact he woke up to texts in the morning. This was an impressive social accomplishment, and being greeted by silly messages from Lea had a similar warm sensation to sitting by a fire after an hour in the snow. With the Mayoral vote only five days away, Xemnas was getting more and more stressed. Isa couldn't pull Aqua away from it, but he could spare the twins at the very least. That Thursday, Lea suggested taking Isa and the twins to Burntcrest for dinner.

Isa was rather surprised they could all fit into Lea's battered Beetle – and that it actually travelled. "It smells weird," Ven remarked, but Isa had to disagree. Whenever Lea returned anything back to him, that smell lingered, between the pages of CD booklets and the folds of spare shirts. The unmistakeable aroma of smoke and dark vanilla was fast becoming a favourite combination, a peculiar cross of alluring and frustrating.

"Don't diss the Bug," Isa turned round and said to Ven.

Lea grinned, and with a complicated set of instructions from both Isa and Roxas, he drove to Burntcrest's town centre. "You're sure Aqua doesn't mind me taking the boys to dinner?"

"She's fine; grateful, even. Just as long as we don't go to a fast food restaurant," he added. As they weaved their way through parked cars and groups of people, they automatically created a neat formation with Isa holding Ven's hand, and Lea holding Roxas'. Lea and Isa were tall enough to have their own conversation above the heads of the twins, though, and Lea said to him, "I haven't been to a fast food joint in years. Now that you mention it, it's almost tempting. My brother and I used to hit all the kebab shops when we went out. Trust me, kebabs only taste good when you're pissed—"

He trailed off when he saw Isa was frowning at him. Isa wasn't put off by the topic, but more the mention – again – of Lea's brother, Reno. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Isa replied.

He couldn't disguise his concern, however, so their dinner had echoes of the strain. That he was Lea's brother and once owned the Beetle was all Isa knew of Reno. Surely, after a month and a half together, he should have more knowledge of the brother Lea was so fond of. Reno, however, was a ghost; there was no solidity to him. Isa hadn't seen any evidence that connected Reno to more dots than Lea's memories.

In all the time Isa had spent with Lea, he couldn't recall a single moment where Lea was calling or texting. Usually, checking one's phone was a routine and inevitable task; it filled in the minutes between conversations and chores, it was the go-to activity when waiting for something. Lea, however, just smoked or fidgeted with his jewellery. He never bothered for phone communication, because it seemed clear that no one was ever going to contact him.

Consequently, Isa was certain that Reno was dead.

Their evening in Burntcrest proved that Lea had a side to him he fought desperately to keep hidden. Isa recalled one evening when Lea said he wanted to talk about it; after that moment – which Isa was a fool to have not taken as an opportunity – Lea had never showed his vulnerability again.

Now, Isa analysed Lea as best as he could, watching how he interacted with the twins. Lea was sociable, carefree, acutely aware of social conformities yet disinclined to adhere to them. It could be genuine behaviour, or it could be Lea's forced attempt to make his life work in Silverkey, as Aqua had suspected. What was so bad about London that Lea had to leave? Did something happen to Reno?

"Hey, Mrs Allsands," Lea greeted, when he dropped the twins back home. "Two stuffed and tired kids for you."

"Oh, look at you both," Aqua enthused. She opened the door wider to let them in and ruffled Ven's hair. "Did you have a nice time? What do you say to Mr Murphy for taking you out?"

Roxas said thank you, but Ven, too exhausted to even open his mouth, staggered a little and hugged Lea instead. "Thank you for treating them," Aqua said. "Do you want to come in for a coffee?"

Just as Lea was about to nod yes to the invitation, Isa waved his hand and cut across him. "No, it's okay. We're actually heading back to Lea's now; I want to see how his place is doing."

Lea shot him a subtle look, but he managed to recover quickly. They said goodnight to Aqua, and the moment she closed the door, Lea turned to him. "Heading back to mine, are we? That's the first I've heard of it. You sure you're all right? You've been a bit quiet today."

Isa stuffed his hands in his pockets, doing his best to look indignant. He wasn't afraid to ask Lea for answers, but a part of him rather resented how he had to actively seek them, as opposed to earning them. Isa liked to keep to himself, so letting Lea into his life – physically and emotionally – was a colossal act of trust on his part. He supposed (wrongly, it seemed now) that the trust would have been mutual.

"I wanted to ask you something." They got in the Beetle, but Lea made no move to start up the car. Isa put on his seatbelt anyway. "…Do you hate living in Silverkey?"

Lea ran both hands through his hair, pressing his lips together. "Er…" he said after a moment, apparently struggling to understand the question. "No, I don't hate it. Whereabouts in our day out today did I look like I hated Silverkey?"

Isa fiddled with some loose thread on his jeans. "You didn't; that's exactly it. I thought…I don't know, maybe you're just pretending about liking the village. Liking me, even, if it means you don't have to go back to London."

Lea took a deep breath through his nose, itching his left ribs. "Holy shit, you're a paranoid one, aren't you." He leaned across to tuck some of Isa's hair behind his ear; it was a growing habit of Lea's, to bury his fingers in blue hair and enjoy sending the most unbearable of shivers down Isa's spine. "Maybe it started that way, with me forcing myself to adjust to living here. I'm not making that conscious effort now. I like it here. And I promise, there's never been a minute where I've pretended to like you."

He kissed Isa, a quick and sudden move that successfully extinguished any forming doubts. "Quit panicking. I'm not heading back to London any time soon." Lea sat back and pulled his seatbelt. As he wound down the window, he began to quietly hum the last song they heard at the restaurant.

"What's in London?" Isa said after a moment's hesitance.

Lea grinned at him. "Well, Isaiah, I don't know if you've heard of this old bird called the Queen—"

Isa flushed and whacked his arm. "Shut up, you know what I mean! What's waiting for you in London?"

Lea scoffed, and just like that, he shook off his casual air like taking off a hat. "What's waiting for me? You got all night?"

"Yes. Have you?"

 Lea's head snapped round. His question had been rhetorical, offhand; Isa had surprised the both of them with the quick fire of his response. Suddenly, Isa felt hot round his collar, and he could feel the warmth rising to his face. Perhaps he had been too forward. Lea, however, found his composure quicker than him; he gave a little shrug and his seatbelt plugged in with a decisive _click_. "My place?"

"No, wait," Isa stuttered. He grabbed Lea's elbow. "Could you maybe drop me off home first? I'll drive over and meet you later. I need to sort out some stuff first."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah, you know, work stuff." Isa waved a stiff hand. "I need to just upload some files to _Monochrome Chât_ 's website; I promised Aqua I'd have it done for tonight so…"

There was no way Lea was buying this, but he was gracious with his response. He turned on the engine and smiled. "No problem. Work first then play; I get it."

**-x-**

Of course, Isa did no such thing when Lea dropped him off at his house. Instead, he ran around his studio flat in a panic, changing his underwear and scrabbling for his best jeans and aftershave. He brushed his teeth, combed his hair, nearly choked on his mouthwash. By the time he was satisfactorily ready, half an hour had gone. Isa spent a few more minutes succumbing to his nerves and stalling, and then he drove his convertible the familiar route from his flat to Lea's.

"Hey," said Lea, as he opened the door. "You get your work done?"

"Y-yeah," Isa replied. "I'm glad it's out the way. One less thing to worry about…"

"Mm?" Lea kissed the side of his neck. "So you can fully concentrate on what?"

Isa couldn't answer. For one thing, he didn't have a response and secondly, the feel of Lea's stubble teasing his collarbone had driven away anything he had ever learnt about coherence.

"So you went home to work and came back in new clothes and smelling twice as nice."

"Sh-shut up!" Isa steadied himself by grabbing Lea's waist, clenching the material of his jeans. He stuttered something else, but Lea pushed their lips together.

"I was joking," he murmured. "Want to go upstairs?"

Isa shrugged and nodded stiffly, as if Lea was offering something as bland as today's paper, and Isa hadn't been wanting to _go upstairs_ for weeks on end. Lea went first, holding his hand. From what Isa could discern in the growing dark, Lea still owned very little, and had had no inclination to change this. His bedroom was no different. It had the bare minimum of furniture, although the bedside table had seen a lot of activity, with its collection of magazines, an ashtray and a half-eaten bar of chocolate.

Lea busied himself with opening a small window and closing the curtains a little. Isa felt stupid, standing at the side of the bed like a chump. He knew what he wanted to do – he wanted to tear off Lea's clothes and fuck until his back broke – but he had no idea how to get there. Did he just undress and jump into bed? Was he supposed to put on some…some kind of show?

Lea crossed the room and began to kiss as much of Isa's exposed skin as possible – his jawline, the slope of his neck, his collarbone. Isa desperately tried to kiss him back, but he spoke instead, fingers clenched round the fabric of Lea's vest. "…I really don't know what I'm doing."

"It's been a while for me too, so I'm kinda out of practice." Lea was trying to be reassuring, playing down his nerves. Isa had never known anyone so openly considerate, and he ached with guilt for being a fumbling freak in return. "Why don't you take off my vest?" Lea suggested. He drew back and lifted his arms. "Go on; it's all right."

Isa pursed his lips and pulled the material, his fingers brushing Lea's ribs. As Lea turned to throw his vest aside, Isa caught the smooth arc of his side. "Your back," he murmured.

"Hm?" Lea looked over his shoulder and gave a little shrug. He only had one tattoo on his chest, but his back didn't have an inch free. It was as though seven tins of paint had just fallen on him when he bent to pick something up. Lea turned round and lifted his hair at the base of his neck, so that Isa could see the whole thing: a sea dragon, nestled in frothy waves and dark red buds that exploded into flowers at the base of Lea's spine, so detailed and intricate that if Isa wanted to, he could count the scales, the petals, the teeth, the bubbles of foam. He traced the dragon, leaned forwards to kiss it. He wondered if he would taste the roses, or smell the salt of the sea. At his touch, Lea took a sharp breath and shifted his weight from one foot to the other; then, without warning, he unbuckled his belt and his trousers pooled at his ankles. Lea pulled down his boxers and turned back to face him.

Isa flushed. He could see Lea's back tattoo skirted along some of his backside too. Isa tugged at his own shirt, feeling stupid for still being dressed. His fingers wouldn't cooperate, however, and suddenly undoing his buttons became the hardest task in the world.

"I spent a lot of my time at tattoo parlours," Lea said. He undid his shirt for him, tossing it aside, and he waited patiently as Isa struggled with his flies. "You know, it was how I passed the time. It started off pretty simple but then I just kept adding to it." He might have been trying to apologise.

"It's beautiful," Isa muttered. He fidgeted with the waistband of his trousers, but Lea took charge of that, running his hands down Isa's legs as he discarded the remainder of his clothes. Together, they clambered onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and poorly aimed kisses. Soon, it wasn't just Lea's hands; Isa felt a burning sensation where his skin touched Lea's chest, thighs, feet. The sheets were cool in the spring breeze, but Isa thought he was in a bed of fire.

He let himself succumb to Lea's mercy, outstretched beneath the colourful canvas of his arms and chest. By comparison, Isa was pale, boring, forgettable. He needn't worry, however. Lea made quick work of this, peppering his body with a handful of kiss marks. His hands roamed, traversing Isa's body as though he was looking for something.

"Any turn ons?"

Isa struggled to find his tongue. "I…Uh, j-just you in general, I guess."

Lea grinned. "Smooth." He sat up, beckoning Isa to do the same. He continued to explore Isa, making a quiet noise in appreciation when Isa ventured to copy him. It became evident that when Lea had asked about a turn on, he wasn't looking for something so general – he was after a specific point, and he found it when his fingers ran along Isa's upper back, just to the right of his spine. Isa had no idea how such a random and seemingly insignificant spot could have such an effect, but it did. He gasped – it was more of a groan – and a surge of unbearable pleasure shot down his back, shook his fingers and made his toes curl. Lea abused the spot with his tongue; all the while, his hands assisted with Isa's arousal. Isa flushed with initial embarrassment at the sight, but Lea seemed to appreciate it. In fact, as Lea reached across for his bedside drawer, Isa saw he hadn't needed any physical stimulation at all; feeling Isa and listening to him had seemingly been enough.

Isa couldn't deny enjoying the thrill of this unexpected influence. He had never been with anyone before and so of course he assumed he was making a fair amount of mistakes, that Lea was comparing him with far superior partners. Lea, though, kept this anxiety at bay with frequent nods and murmurs of approval, and it wasn't long when in a bit of a daze, Isa watched Lea finger himself with lube. "I know you're nervous," Lea said. He sat comfortably on his knees, fingers working behind him. "So how about you fuck me?"

Isa cleared his throat a little, tensing his shoulders. "S-sure."

Lea looked so relaxed in comparison. There was a beautiful confidence around him, not quite resonating with his usual audacity but with something gentler, the way anyone's body just folded with relief when they knew they were home. Isa kissed Lea's lips, wondering afterwards why he insisted on pretending to be the chaste one. Lea smiled against the curve of Isa's neck and murmured, "How do you want me?"

Isa licked his lips. "You mean position-wise?"

"Yeah. Top, bottom, on all fours; whatever you like."

"A-all fours? Does that work?" Isa was only questioning it, but Lea looked up interestedly. Then, as elegant as a cat stirring from a nap, he rolled to his side and propped himself up on his elbows and knees. It was quite a sight, and Isa didn't know where to look first: at the beautiful curves of his back, arse and thighs, or the shadows of art that adorned them.

"Dunno," Lea said lightly. "You could try." Lea instructed him carefully, offering tips without being patronising, letting Isa take the reins without frightening him. "Lube up and go slow to begin with. Set a steady pace and then rest across my back; stretch and hold my hand." Lea grinned up at him from the pillows. "It's a bit lonely this end."

Isa did his best to follow. His mind was going foggy with uncontrollable desire and the hazy, stunned approach only intensified when he entered Lea. Through his hesitance, Isa must have implied his fear of hurting him, for Lea didn't just bite into the pillow – he grinned and laughed into it. "Go on," he said round the material. "Fuck me like you mean it."

Isa gripped the bony waist for balance and thrust into him. Lea spluttered the strangest of sounds, an arousing cross between a groan and a laugh. Isa thought he stammered an apology, yet he knew the ability to speak had long left him. He was overwhelmed by the sensation of being deep in Lea, such that it became impossible to do anything else but fuck him. Lea made all the right noises, his legs widening in stance to accommodate the thrusts. When Lea's right arm waved out in shaky attention, Isa panicked and thought he was doing something wrong; however, Lea beckoned him down, so that Isa rested across his colourful, sweating back and now, the moans were fresh at his ear.

"Better isn't it," Lea breathed. His right hand buried itself in Isa's hair and with carefully orchestrated moans – Isa could see and feel each one, Lea's head angled awkwardly to kiss Isa throughout – they reached a steady plateau. Isa fucked Lea hard into the mattress, his left hand sliding off Lea's waist to his erection. He pumped him in time, and Lea had swapped out his laughs and was panting desperately instead. His fingers clenched round Isa's hair and with a few more thrusts, Lea came on the bed sheets with a gasp of his name. Lea groaned – Isa could feel his legs wanting to give way – but he stayed in place with several deep pants. Isa was utterly exhausted; he was aching all over. He kept thrusting, fucking, desperately sliding in and out until his body could take it no more and he came inside Lea. Isa's moan was a little more immodest, loud and embarrassingly stark in the absence of Lea's groans.

Lea waited patiently for Isa to catch his breath and slide out; then, Lea rolled onto his back and crawled into the sheets with him.

**-x-**

Zack Fair's dream to be a hero had never wavered for one moment in his lifetime. It had started out, naturally, as silly proclamations from a child who had watched too many superhero movies. He wanted laser eyes, a cape that made him fly, a call sign the people of Silverkey could use and he'd swoop to the rescue. He lifted clay plant pots and pretended they were cars, released trapped insects outside and saved their lives; on stormy days, he rang Aerith and told her he had cast a shielding dome over her house to keep her safe.

As he grew up and went on to marry Aerith, Zack's dream gained some realism, but its origins and reasons all remained the same. He was still fuelled by that innate desire to help as many people as possible, to save lives, to be a hero in someone's eyes. With Aerith two weeks away from her due date and their new addition to the household imminent, Zack's ambition now included becoming a father to be proud of.

Zack was still at the bottom of the rungs as a Sergeant, reporting to Inspector Leonhart, and Lieutenant Hewley (Zack's unwitting idol) was just a stamped name, a presence that ghosted the station in the form of rumours and whispers. Unfortunately, a Sergeant didn't make much money, and the Fairs were already being financially tested without a baby. Zack worked whatever extra hours he could, and Aerith did her part round the house, growing vegetables in their tiny back garden and knitting baby clothes. They were a hardworking family, but they were still renting, and from the Goldsmith-Gardiners at that.

A few days ago, Zack received a phone call. He had been in the middle of his daily routine of patrolling the high street and checking everything was in order, when his mobile went off. It wouldn't have looked professional to answer it then (Zack believed Lieutenant Hewley had eyes and ears everywhere), so he waited for his lunch break before he rang back the caller – Arlene Goldsmith.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you at work," Arlene had said, not sounding sorry at all. In fact, Zack was convinced she might have been eating something. "I have some good news for you. I want to lower your rent."

To start off with, Zack was unconvinced. The idea of Arlene and goodwill together was about as likely as a wolf chilling with a lamb. However, Arlene followed up with various references to their tenancy agreement – which was up for renewal in August – and she said she would knock fifty pounds off their rent as a baby gift. "Tell you what, Zack. I'll make it two hundred if you do me a favour."

" _Two hundred_?!"

The favour was inexplicably simple, random, unfounded. There was every chance Arlene was grasping at straws in the lead up to the Mayoral vote, but Zack had the feeling he was not being asked to understand or question. "I'm looking for an opportunity, that's all," Arlene had said. "I want you to call me, regardless of the time, if you see Isaiah LeFévre at Lea Murphy's house. You do this for me, Mr Fair, and I'll see to it that your dream house is one step closer."

That night, Zack remembered Arlene's phone call with an involuntary shudder. He had just finished up on a late shift and was desperate to cram in as much sleep as possible before his 6.00 alarm tomorrow; however, as he strode up Blue Park Lane, he spotted the badly parked convertible. His brain stopped before his feet, and he stumbled forwards, grabbing a nearby brown bin to steady himself. At the sudden series of movement, a startled fox jumped out from Lea's garden and ran down the road and into the night.

Zack wet his lips, glancing back at the car and reading its number plate. The cluster of green environmental stickers on the back window confirmed Zack's suspicions. Slowly, Zack closed his front gate and looked up at his house, joined with Lea's. There was only one light on, the faintest glow of orange emanating from Lea's upstairs window.

Two hundred pounds. In one year, he could save nearly two and a half thousand.

Zack unlocked his front door and dialled. For someone who had just been disturbed at quarter past one in the morning, Arlene answered surprisingly quickly. "Hello, Zack."

**-x-**

The boxes of light from Lea's bedroom window grew clearer in their shape, as the evening gave way to night. Isa could see moonlight filtering through the trees and casting patterns that crawled across his legs. Lea was nearly lost to the dark, sat up in bed and just shy of the squares of light; from his position lying down and looking up, Isa studied the contours of Lea's profile, the collected ease as he took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled. It was strangely reassuring, following the glowing end as it moved from Lea's mouth to the ashtray, and back again.

"You good?" Lea asked him.

Isa nodded, and then he realised it might have gone amiss in the dark. "I'm okay. Thanks."

Lea finished off his cigarette and reached across to stump it out. Isa admired the sharp ridges of his spine, as best as his hazy mind would allow him. Wordlessly, Lea got out of bed and walked round it, one thin arm reaching for the light switch. He lit up the room on its dimmest setting, turning down the dial so that they were immersed in an amber glow. Lea clambered back into bed, his tattoos on display, the ink swirling and stretching with the movement of his muscles. He fluffed up his pillow and rested against the headboard, and although he was naked and sweating from the sex, Isa didn't think he had received any kind of trust from Lea at all.

"…Is he dead?"

Lea glanced down at him. "Who?"

"Reno." Isa sat up, pulling his sheets up to his waist. "He's never around and doesn't contact you, and you obviously miss him. So I thought…well, it just added up to me that Reno might have…"

"Nah, he's not dead. Wish it were that simple." Lea beckoned with his left hand. "C'mere."

Isa did, shuffling along the bed; Lea steered him so that his back was turned and exposed to light kisses. Isa tried to control his shivers as Lea began to brush his hair with his fingers, and despite it feeling so wonderful, he couldn't help but feel Lea had deliberately turned him so they wouldn't have to look at each other.

"I know you don't trust me," Isa murmured, "but you can't keep avoiding the topic. You can't keep hiding from me, especially when I might be able to help. I want to help."

He drew his legs up and wrapped his arms round them, chin on his knees; Lea continued to stroke his back. Isa could feel him plaiting his hair. Lea kissed his shoulder blade. "We were both in jail."

Isa's breath hitched in his throat, but he kept still. He was certain that any discomfort on his part was what Lea was dreading.

"I got out about a year ago. We were in for GBH. I look the type, right?" His hands ran down Isa's arms, and Isa studied the collection of tattoos. "When you're that young, you don't really question what your big brother teaches you. You just assume he knows best. Reno and I were part of this gang; we called ourselves Turks and trust me, we weren't the sort of people you wanted to run into at night. It might sound hypocritical, impossible even, but Reno was a good guy. You know, he cared; if anyone had a gripe with me, he beat the shit out of them. Our dad left us years ago and our mum's a bitch who locked us in the pantry together while she whored herself out for alcohol. As soon as Reno was able to, he got us into a different life, where we had the money and were calling the shots. Course, it got out of control."

Lea ran one hand through Isa's hair, and in that single swift stroke, he unravelled his hard work. "We trawled the streets for fights and got noticed by London's underworld. Soon, we got employed by this guy, who's apparently a prominent figure in England. We never met him or learned who he was. We just worked in his Investigations and Reclaims team. Basically, we beat up his clients until they shat money. He'd send Reno coordinates, and he had a fucking _dog_ wait there with micro instructions hidden in its tag. Every time we trekked across London to fetch our next task from Dark Nation, Reno was convinced it moved us one step up the ladder. Course, that was just wishful thinking, and when Reno got a bit too big for his boots, our boss ensured we got arrested on our next mission. Somehow, we blagged a lighter sentence, but…yeah, it was still a hefty amount of time."

Isa wetted his lips. His head was spinning with the information, the sudden angle that threw all of Lea's warmth off kilter. "How long were you in jail for?"

"Four years. Reno got five because of previous convictions." Lea pushed his lips against the base of Isa's neck, peppering his skin with light touches so unlike the hardened story he was telling. Isa couldn't believe that these gentle hands were capable of inflicting such battery. "Jail suits some people. You know, they thrive on it; I met a couple of really nasty folk there. I never had a single visitor while I was serving time, and my cellmate killed himself within the first month I arrived. The loneliness messed with my head. Soon as I got out of jail, I made sure I'd never go back there again."

"You cut out the poison."

"Yeah." Lea's chin rested comfortably on his shoulder. "Not everyone gets someone like Eraqus to pull them out to safety. Sometimes, a handful of us just jump ship because, although we have no proof, we believe the alternative _has_ to be better. I haven't got a clean slate, Isa, and I'm just so tired of it. You might think it's boring here, but I'll gladly clean the school and work hard and be a decent guy if it means I don't go back to London."

At these words, Lea tensed up against him, such that Isa prompted quietly, "Why would you go back?"

Lea cleared his throat, swallowing. "…Reno's out of jail this month," he muttered. "He's going to be looking for me. I've covered my tracks, changed my name and number, left without telling anyone anything…it should hold him off. If he does find me, though, all he need to do is say the word and I'm there."

Lea drew away from him, settling back against the headboard and taking a deep breath. "You have no idea how fucking tempting it is to go back to London, to Reno, to that life. Sometimes, you people in Silverkey make it so fucking easy for me; all it takes is one look of contempt and I realise, who am I kidding? I can't ever be anything more than someone's bitch. I can't be anyone decent. Even being a fucking cleaner in a primary school is too good for me."

Isa fidgeted with the sheets. He could remember numerous occasions when he had been less than civil to Lea. He wondered how many times he had unknowingly played chicken with Lea, scoffing at his appearance, chipping away at his confidence and nudging him inch by inch towards London.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Lea said. "It wasn't because I didn't trust you. I just want to move on from it, and since we were doing so well together, I was afraid to spoil it."

Isa turned round, seeing his face for the first time after his confession. It might have been the orange hue, but Lea didn't look so chilled or carefree any more. Without his cigarette and cloud of smoke to hide behind, Lea was exposed to Isa's judgment, sat still in bed with one hand rubbing his right wrist. Isa recalled the tattoo there – the _R_ and the inverted _L_ – and as he twisted in bed to reach for him, Lea gave a thin smile and shuffled to lie down. He pulled up his covers, as though this gesture alone was enough to deflect Isa's thoughts of him. "Would you mind?" Lea murmured. "Can we just sleep?"

Isa nodded. It was easy to get comfortable in bed with Lea spooning him, one arm draped over his waist. Isa knew Lea was tired, but his curiosity had one last hurdle to jump before it could be sated. "Lea?"

"Yeah?"

"You said you changed your name."

Lea, for all his vulnerability tonight, didn't freeze up at this reminder. Instead, he shifted closer to Isa, as though he could only whisper the truth. "Yeah, I did." He cleared his throat. "That cute tattoo on my wrist – it used to be an _I_ and an _R_. Doesn't stand for Lea and Reno; it's Investigations and Reclaims. Reno's fan-fucking-tastic idea to brand our loyalty to the boss. I didn't have much money when I got out of jail, so striking it to an L was all I could afford. My real name's Axel."

Isa rolled over, facing him and very carefully – because sometimes, Lea really did look like he could break – he touched his cheek and ran a hand through his messy red hair. "You don't look like an Axel to me," he murmured.

Lea grinned, a change of expression that broke through the dark and sent a warmth to Isa's stomach. "Now that, Isa," he said, between kisses, "is how you sweet talk."


	11. Chapter 11

Mummy and Daddy were so tired from a busy day at the farm, they didn't have the energy to even put Naminé to bed. "I'm really sorry, baby; I'm so knackered." Daddy sat on the edge of her bed and began to tidy up the stuffed dolls she had there. "I can barely see in front of my face, let alone read you something."

Naminé wanted to say it was perfectly all right, but she was brushing her teeth and Daddy's eyes were on his phone. He stayed until Naminé was at least in bed, and then he kissed her goodnight and turned off the light.

Naminé should have tried to go to sleep but her mind was rife with thoughts. She hadn't been able to concentrate on any of her lessons in class except art, and when she went to sleep, all she could dream about was that little white box. She was creating a garden, a beautiful model of Silverkey's nature; in class, she had cut down two of the shoebox's walls and expanded the area that way. Miss Trepe had been surprised at Naminé's audacity, but she smiled and said it was all right. It was okay to break the rules a little bit, if you were trying to do good things.

Naminé sat up, wide awake, watching the moonlight slowly sail across her room as the night passed. At its highest point, it lit up the base of her art easel. It wasn't a proper one, because it had plastic legs and a pink frame and butterflies embossed on its tray, but Daddy always talked as though it was, as if the contorted mess Naminé's shaking hands created was actually true art.

Naminé had seen actual art, in books and magazines and the pretty shapes Mrs Allsands cut out.  She knew she wasn't good at drawing. Naminé had fat crayons that jumped out of the lines and smudged against her wrist; her fingers too, trembled whenever she tried to concentrate. Her pictures had no depth or variety; they were flat and lifeless, while the rest of the world beyond her canvas had shades of an unimaginable number.

To be honest, Naminé found it easier to draw at a table instead of on the easel. But Daddy had been so proud of himself when he came back from visiting the city with that in his arms as opposed to the cushion covers he had promised Mummy. Naminé didn't have it in her to break his heart.

The big clock above Naminé's door read quarter past one, when she heard the sound of Mummy talking.

Kairi, too, looked up from her book in curiosity. "Can you hear her?" she whispered across the room. "Who is she talking to?"

Naminé shook her head to say she didn't know. She sat cross legged, trying to pick out words. "…Why is she awake so late?"

"Maybe for the same reason as you and me," Kairi replied. "She's terribly excited and can't sleep."

Without warning, Naminé's bedroom door opened. Mummy crept in; she was so thin in her silky pyjamas. She rooted around Naminé's school bag, and as she sat back with her mobile phone, she jumped and clutched her heart. "Naminé!" she hissed. She took a deep breath. "You gave me a fright!"

"I'm sorry."

Mummy waved away her apology and sat down on the bed. "…I'm just using your phone for a minute, baby."

Naminé watched in silence. She had never seen Mummy concentrating so hard. There were sequins on her nightdress, which sparkled in the moonlight as her fingers typed rapidly. Naminé didn't use her phone much. It was more a precaution, so that she could be contacted in any case of emergency. Mummy made sure her phone was charged every morning before slotting it in the hidden pocket of her school bag.

"Okay," Mummy breathed. She set the phone down, and Naminé thought she was going to leave. Instead, she gestured for Naminé to lie down. "Aren't you tired? You have school tomorrow. What's keeping you awake?"

She loved the feel of Mummy's hand stroking her hair. "They're cancelling PE tomorrow so we can have a double art class." Naminé curled up; she thought she was smiling. "Are you awake because you're excited too?"

"Something like that." Mummy lay down on her back. Naminé could smell her perfume, which reminded her of the walks Daddy used to take her through flower fields just after it had rained. She rather hoped Mummy was going to stay, but the question wouldn't form; it was never easy to ask Mummy for anything. Naminé found an alternative by moving along the pillow so Mummy could share it.

"I do love you so," Mummy whispered into the dark.

Naminé hugged her arm. "Me too."

**-x-**

For the first time in years, Lea woke naturally, comfortably. Behind closed lids, the strange mix of birdsong and Zack's radio exercises filtered through the window. He took a shuddering breath, shifted his upper body and, still snug in the dark, discerned he was slightly on his right side, and a weight was between his ribs and arm. He stretched his fingers, running them through soft hair that slinked across his bare skin.

"Mm," muttered Isa. He was feeling blindly for something; Lea could feel his knuckles under their pillow. Isa's hand stretched out. There was distant clattering; something fell to the floor. "Time…"

"Hey. Morning." Lea pressed his fingers against the slight ridges of Isa's ribs, ducking in to kiss his neck. "Should have guessed you'd be a cranky one in the morning. Wow, look at your hair…!"

"Sod off," came the tired response. Isa rested across him, his chin digging into Lea's arm. "For your reference, you look like a ball of exploded yarn too."

"Yeah, well after last night of course we're going to be a bit dishevelled." Lea settled for Isa's hipbone. "You remember much of it?"

Lea enjoyed the closeness for that moment, idly stroking the long blue hair and brushing it straight, when he felt Isa's stomach and shoulder muscles tighten against his own.

"You okay?" Lea asked. "Is it late? I set my alarm for seven…"

Isa said nothing. Even his breaths had shortened – Lea could no longer feel them tickling his ear – and he sat back slowly. "Oh my God," he near whispered.

"What?"

"Oh my God," Isa said again, but it was louder, higher. "Oh my God! L-Lea?!" As quick as a flash, Isa's hands flew out for the bed sheets and they went round his body. Lea watched, his head spinning with sickening realisation, as Isa leapt out of bed and staggered backwards, feet tripping round the foreign terrain of the Lea's bedroom, eyes looking round wildly.

"Saix," Lea breathed. "Fuck, how did—?"

"Oh my God," Saix murmured. She sank against Isa's wardrobe, as pale as the linen she hid behind. "What's going on? Wh-where are my clothes? Where are yours?"

Lea scrabbled for his underwear. He could barely think over the colossal noise of his haggard breaths. "Saix, it's not what you think…"

"I can't remember anything." Saix gripped the sides of her head, curling up in the corner. "Where's Aqua? She's always here when I wake up. She's _always_ here. What have you done to me?" She tried her legs, winced. Then, she stared at Lea as though she was seeing him for the first time. "I ache," she breathed. She studied her shaking arms. "Th-there's marks on me…"

"Saix, I can explain. J-just stay calm, okay? I promise you this isn't what it looks like." Lea held out his hands, open palms in surrender. What was going on? It had definitely been Isa, the whole night and morning after. "I…I'm with this guy, Isa…Y-you weren't supposed to—"

"Wake up?" Saix cut in. She stood up, edging round the room for the door. "Did you drug me? You're that desperate for a fuck you dragged me unconscious to some…I-I don't even know where this is—"

"You're at my—"

"Fuck you, Lea, I don't care where I am! I _trusted_ you! Everyone kept telling me you were a criminal through and through, but I didn't listen. I trusted you; I felt sorry for you!"

"Please, Saix, you have to listen to me." Lea could barely form his words; he had no idea if they were even coming out. The room rocked around him, squeezing behind his ribs and his eyes. He didn't understand. He was terrified.

"You're done," Saix breathed. Her voice was deadly quiet but it thundered in Lea's head. She grabbed the door handle. "You belong in a fucking jail, and that's right where I'll put you."

**-x-**

Xemnas was currently engaged in the difficult task of reading the newspaper while Roxas and Ventus were squabbling either side of him. It was a serious article, covering the recent floods up north, and he had read the same paragraph four times in a row and processed nothing. All he could hear was the boys arguing about who should have the top part of the milk, and Aqua's tired voice trying to settle it. She got up a little while later to answer the house phone, and Xemnas resumed reading, only to discover Pluto had two paws on his suit and was trying to climb onto his lap. Xemnas hissed through his teeth and swatted him away.

"Oh for God's sake," he snapped. "Can one of you please teach the bloody dog some table manners?"

"…Saix feeds him at the table," said Roxas. "She goes against the house rules and confuses him."

"I don't want excuses; I want some action taken. If we can't keep the animal under control then I'll send him away. Now, I'm trying to read, so button it and continue your fight in sign language or something." He folded the paper back open and shook his head at the numerous photos of damaged houses and sunken cars. He could feel Ventus's eyes on him.

"…You wouldn't really send Pluto away, would you?"

Xemnas opened his mouth to answer, fully prepared to give him the cold hard facts, when Aqua sidled into their dining room. She was ashen, weirdly stiff in her movements. Xemnas longed to get back to his study and check his emails to see what kind of day was ahead of him (or at least, read the news in peace), but his daily routine suddenly seemed so insignificant when put against Aqua's face. He knew immediately that something was wrong.

He stood up. "Who was it?"

Roxas and Ventus fell silent, glancing across the room with him. Aqua wet her lips, her gaze shifting restlessly as though she was searching for a prompt. "It was uh…Inspector Leonhart."

Xemnas got up and crossed the room. Aqua's immediate response was to fold her arms so she had a barrier between them. "It's Saix," she murmured.

"Saix?" Xemnas repeated. "I thought the switch was scheduled for Monday, ahead of the vote."

"It was." Aqua took a deep breath and rubbed under her eyes with the base of her hand. "She's switched already. I…I have no idea how. Only I have the trigger; I've guarded it, kept it safe, I promise…! B-but Leonhart said she's at the station with him now."

"What for? Did Leonhart say?"

Aqua bit her lip. It seemed it was only because Roxas and Ventus were just past him, sitting quietly, that prevented her from starting to cry. "Uh…She's accused Lea of drugging and uh…taking advantage of her."

Xemnas let out a sharp sigh. "Great," he uttered, rubbing his temples. "So the biggest front to my campaign is a good-for-nothing criminal after all."

Aqua's hand shot up. She was going to hit him, fed up with his candour, but she caved at the last minute and gripped his forearm instead. She was desperate. "Forget the campaign; don't you think we have a bigger worry? No one is supposed to know that trigger, no one but me. My father's protected that trigger for years and within months of my charge, I've ruined it already! But what if it's the wall? What if the wall's breaking between the two of them? Oh for _God's_ sake!" She took out her phone from her back pocket – it was vibrating and flashing green – and one weak throw later, it was against Xemnas' chest. "…Lea's been ringing all morning. That's his fifth call. I can't…The kids have to get ready for school, and I need to talk to Saix and Leonhart—"

"It's all right, calm down."

Aqua's grip on him was so tight, her knuckles were as white as her face. A couple of tears escaped from her, but she took a deep breath and nodded furiously. Xemnas hadn't seen her up this close, at her long lashes, the dark shadows under her eyes. It was no secret that he often went out of his way to upset her, just to remind her who was calling the shots in this house, but Xemnas wasn't completely indifferent. Acting upon a crisis was surely the greatest time for him to convince himself that he was as much a person as she was.

"I'll collect Saix and speak with Leonhart. You call Lea and find out what happened and how she was triggered. Boys," he called behind him. "Put on your shoes; I'm going to drop you round Dilan's so you can go to school with Xion."

"R-right, I'll call Dilan." Aqua tried to unlock her phone; her fingers, however, wouldn't listen, and she dropped it instead. Xemnas sighed.

"No, leave it with me. You just get going."

**-x-**

Last year, three days after Aqua's thirty-first birthday, it became clear that Eraqus wasn't going to get better. He was only going to deteriorate over time and so, he couldn't let his illness jeopardise the passing of the crucial message. Aqua had wordlessly agreed to continue her father's work of maintaining the balance between Isa and Saix. In some way, the practice kept her connected to her father, gave her a just the right amount of responsibility to convince her to battle on. However, she couldn't deny that much of it was a ridiculous hope that it would unlock the door to Terra. If she only had to read two lines of a Greek poem to call Saix, perhaps one day, she could figure out the exact phrase that'd bring back her husband. It was silly – Xemnas had a ten year streak of existence, far greater than Saix's maximum of four days – but she wished and wished for it.

Aqua remembered the first time she had triggered Isa. It was a strange event to witness, having Isa slouch into his room and complain about the awful leggings Saix liked to wear. But he changed for her, pulling on the stretch jumper, peeling off his trainer socks and slipping bare feet into espadrilles. Aqua saw his look of scorn and how, after two lines of poetry, he blinked a few times and his brain reconnected with his separate personality, as smoothly as a train changing tracks.

Saix was gracious about the situation. She was okay with Aqua being her ward and thanked her each time for being woken up. She would pop in the contact lenses Aqua had for her, tie up her hair in a messy bun and then, with no idea of Isa at all, Saix would turn round and ask how many days she'd missed.

While Aqua was running down the garden path and calling Lea, she thought hard about Saix, and how terrified she must have been to be woken up like that. Every trigger until now had been careful, so careful. What had gone wrong?

"Aqua, I've been trying to call you all morning." Lea was breathless, nearly shouting. "I've…I've fucked up. I don't know how it happened—"

"Lea, we need to talk face to face. Are you at your house?"

"Y-yes. I'm just leaving for the police station. I have to hand myself in, explain—"

"Don't leave; don't move." She hung up and broke into a run. Her heart was hammering against her chest, and she longed to just run back home, to the quiet study her father used to sit in, to curl up in a ball there and wait for him to magic away her problems. When she turned into Blue Park Lane, she was sweating all over, but she looked far better than Lea.

He was barely recognisable with his hair unkempt and missing his trademark wax; it hung loosely, draping into his eyes and framing his pale face. Lea's shirt was inside out and he was shaking. He started talking before Aqua even caught up to him. "—I swear on my life I didn't hurt her. You have to believe me, please. I was with Isa the whole night."

Aqua wasn't sure why, but she grabbed his hands. She couldn't tell who she was trying to comfort. "I believe you," she said, "but this isn't supposed to happen. Saix is a triggered response; only I know how to call her. Where were you last night?"

"My house. Bedroom," Lea replied. He broke free from her grip to run his hands through his hair, panicked. "I was with Isa the whole time. We…we slept together—"

"And this morning?" Aqua prompted. "I need as much detail as possible. Was it Saix who woke up?"

Lea rubbed the back of his head in frustration. "No, it was Isa. I…I woke up first. We were together…you know, curled up together. He was comfortable. We were messing about with some morning talk. Next thing I know, it's Saix. I-is she okay?"

"I don't know," Aqua said honestly. "Xemnas is talking to her. Hopefully, he can stop the police from getting involved. When did Isa cross into Saix? Did you say anything, hear anything?"

Lea shook his head. He started to itch his right forearm. "Uh…I didn't…I didn't see the switch. He was leaning across me, stretching. Then he froze up."

"Okay." Aqua licked her lips and took a deep breath. "…I wonder if you would let me search your room."

Lea dug into his back pocket and held out his keys. "O-of course. Anything that will help." He rubbed his face, taking a deep breath. "I'm going to the police station. I have to hand myself in."

Aqua gave him a tight smile. "Do you know your way there?"

Lea took another breath, which seemed to rattle his whole body. "I'll find it."

Aqua hadn't noticed how really, once missing his light smile, Lea just looked like someone off the street. So thin, so exhausted. She didn't know if he had always been like this, or if the people of Silverkey had driven him into the corner, forced him to assume the stereotype that made him easy to comprehend. Aqua squeezed his hand, but Lea made no sign he was feeling anything at all. He gave a small nod to say goodbye, and he headed down the street, hands in his pockets.

**-x-**

Squall Leonhart was never going to admit it, but today had the most action Silverkey Police Station had ever seen in its lifetime. He had been in the middle of a heated battle with his computer, wondering how he was supposed to navigate if his cursor wasn't showing up, when the double doors burst open and Saix stumbled in. She was naked, save for an anorak Squall recognised as Isa's, and in a combination of stutters and full blown yells, she told him she had been drugged and raped by Lea Murphy.

He sprang into action as his many courses had taught him over the years. He assigned fellow officers to assure her, while he rang the Allsands and arranged for a patrol car to arrest Lea. Squall had, of course, seen it coming. Once a criminal, always a criminal, and Lea Murphy had an incredible history. The Goldsmith-Gardiners had been fools to think their new tenant would have been any good for the village. A darker side of Squall, however, had been hoping Lea would slip up. It was just the right amount of criminality Silverkey needed to put their protectors back on the game board.

"So." Squall looked up from his dossier file, surveying a very sorry-looking Lea. Suddenly, he didn't seem so cool or cocky with those ridiculous tattoos and silly hair; sat in the station's most uncomfortable chair with his head down, he just looked like a regular scumbag who had been too thick to consider consequences. The guy didn't really need to be cuffed, considering he had turned himself in, but Squall thought it drove the point home. "Lea Murphy," he said, "as you like to call yourself. You seem to be trying to complete a criminal's bingo card here. You've been cautioned for shoplifting, breaking and entering, vandalism, ABH, not to mention you were in jail for numerous counts of GBH. Now you've been brought here on an accusation of rape. Care to explain what's going on?"

Lea rubbed his right wrist. "…It's a misunderstanding."

"So Saix 'misunderstood' the fact she woke up in your bedroom, naked and disoriented, with signs of recent sexual activity?" Squall scoffed and tossed the file across the table for Lea to look at. "That's a truckload of evidence suggesting you drugged and violated her, you piece of filth. You better get your story straight or so help me, I will do everything in my power to make your life a misery."

Lea circled his shoulders, studying his handcuffs. "I was with Isa. We went out last night, and later on, Isa drove over to my place. Isa's my…we're together. I slept with him, but this morning, he switched into Saix. That was never supposed to happen."

Squall steeped his fingers, chewing the inside of his mouth. "…What on earth possessed you to think this was a good idea? I mean, embarking on a relationship with a split personality?"

"I didn't get a choice."

Squall sat back and shook his head. "You've got yourself into a fine mess. Regardless of how you and Isaiah LeFévre feel about one another, the fact remains that you didn't ask Saix for her consent."

Lea made a small sound of agreement. He didn't take to the challenge of disputing this, even if Squall was being unreasonable. The concept of Isa and Saix residing in the same body was complex, but they had both made a life for themselves as individuals; one of the main contributions to this balance, however, was to deny Saix the truth of what she really was. If Lea had sought her consent or made any allusions to Isa, there was no telling what it would do to the wall that separated Isa from Saix. The split personality, and its carefully handled trigger and lies, had been created to give Isa a better life – at the cost of personal distance. The setup was perfect, as long as neither Isa nor Saix had any rights to their own body. They couldn't get their ears pierced without the other's permission, let alone fall in love with someone. Isa and Saix had room to err; Lea, on the other hand, had no disadvantage.

Squall held up his copy of Lea's criminal record. "This is going to get out. The whole of Silverkey is going to find out you're exactly the filth they had thought you'd be." 

Lea looked up. Squall realised that this was the first time since Lea's arrest that he had shown any sign of life beyond the occasional mutter or nod. "So what do I do now?"

"You wait to see if Saix wants to press charges," he replied. He stood up and gestured for one of the security guards to open one of the cell doors. Silverkey Police Station was so small that when they did have prisoners, they were often in the same large room Squall worked. "Make yourself comfortable. You'll be here for a while."

Lea went in the cell without protest, and Squall likened it to a frog sinking into a comfortable muddy swamp after a spell in freshwater. Squall slid the gate shut and rested against it, favouring Lea with one last look of contempt. "I look forward to reading tomorrow's paper."

**-x-**

On first glance, Lea's house was like a disused library, quiet and undisturbed. It lacked anything personal, and when the morning sunlight poured in through the windows, particles of dust floated in all the rooms that hadn't been aired. Aqua closed the front door and, despite knowing no one was around, she took off her shoes and murmured into the echoing hallway, "S-sorry to intrude…"

She went up the narrow staircase, holding Lea's house keys so tightly, they left patterns on her palms. Lea's room was at the end of the landing. Its light was still on. Lea hadn't tidied up after the events of the morning, which worked better for Aqua. She stood in the doorway, surveyed the scene like a policeman trying to spot crucial evidence on the first sweep.

Carefully, Aqua crossed the room. There were various items of clothing on the floor, along with bed sheets. Going by the pillows and their prominent indentations, she suspected that either Lea or Isa had rested on his back, with the other's head on his chest. She smiled a little at the thought, her mind wandering to the idle observation that she never slept comfortably like that now. She just had base habits – she felt nothing for Xemnas, but he was certainly warm at night – and knew nothing of the morning talk Lea had mentioned to her.

What did normal people do when they woke up in the morning?

She fidgeted at the edge of the bed, eyeing the distressed sheets and cluttered bedside table. There was a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Isa had been stretching, she recalled. What had he been reaching out for? She bit her lip and took a deep, calming breath. Then, it occurred to her. She lifted the pillow, giving it a little shake. Isa's phone rolled out.

"The morning after a late one," she muttered. "You were checking the time."

With shaking fingers, Aqua pushed the menu button of Isa's phone and after a moment's thought, she keyed in his birthday. The phone's screen dispersed to reveal a series of icons, dotted round the colourful backdrop of Place de la République. She brought up the message box, and then any idle thoughts of Paris gave way to ice cold realisation searing through her body.

She sat on the edge of the bed, shaking. Isa's most recent text message had been at 1:31 this morning, from a number he didn't recognise, and its text was all lowercase, displaying two lines of Greek poetry.

"Oh my God," she whispered. She wrapped her arms round herself. Her first thought, after the shock had only marginally subsided, was, _Father is going to be so angry with me_. She bit her lip, tasted blood. For a few minutes, she just sat and listened to the sound of crackling trees, dazed and lost.  Ven often had moments like this, curled up on the bend of the stairs and feeling sad – sometimes for no reason at all. Where Ven could look up and ask her to guide him, though, Aqua had no one.

She was as empty as Lea's house.

It could have been hours later when her phone vibrated against her thigh – Aqua wasn't sure how long she had been sitting out, at a complete loss for what to do. "Hi Xemnas," she muttered.

"Saix is all right. Inspector Leonhart's having a good time throwing his weight around, I can tell you that."

"A-and Lea?"

"In a cell," Xemnas replied. "The police are detaining him, pending instructions. Did you speak to Lea before he came to the station?"

Aqua stood up. She slotted Isa's phone in her handbag. "I…I checked his house. Isa was triggered by a text message. It had the exact words. I don't understand how that information could have got out; you know I've been careful right from the start…"

"And I presume the text was from an unknown number?"

"Yes. Someone went out their way to ensure Isa switched while in such a vulnerable moment."

"You can't think of anyone who'd go that far?" said Xemnas. "This sudden exploit of Lea Murphy is having detrimental effects on my campaign. Who do you think would be ecstatic at such a result?"

"Again with the campaign," she snapped at him. She wriggled her feet into her shoes and added, "It's nothing to do with it; clearly, someone has a personal grudge against Isa finding any sprig of happiness."

"Then perhaps it's good that the events have shed light on what Lea is really like," Xemnas answered evenly. "Isa ought to be more careful who he cavorts with, and you ought to be wary of who you leave your children with."

"What _are_ you talking about? Lea isn't some bad guy—"

"I'm coming up Blue Park Lane now by the way, if you fancy a lift home."

Aqua, a little too stunned by Xemnas' random generosity, ended up cutting the call as she opened and locked Lea's front door. Sure enough, the silver car waited for her, with Xemnas drumming his fingers against the steering wheel and Saix in the front passenger seat.

Saix didn't say a word in the car journey back home. Aqua was afraid to be the first to break the silence, as curious as she was to press Xemnas for information on Lea. Xemnas saved his thoughts for when they got home, and he could walk in step with Aqua. "You need to clarify Isa's existence with her," he said lowly. "If she chooses to break the wall between them, that's not a wrong choice. You should support her. You know all too well just how redundant the original self can be."

Xemnas' hand ghosted close to Aqua's elbow, and she knocked him away in a defensive spasm. "I don't need reminding of your stance on this, thank you."

Aqua got indoors and fought her way out of her shoes, and was abruptly met with the sorry sight of Saix in the hallway with her arms round herself. She seemed to keep catching her reflection in the decorative mirrors and the crystal teardrops of the lamps, but she looked as if she didn't recognise herself at all. She wasn't fidgeting with her hair; by all counts, she seemed to have rejected her body altogether, restricting her movement to a bare minimum. The police station had found her some spare clothes which, in combination with Isa's thin anorak, just made Saix look completely and utterly frail.

"Here. Want to pop these in?" Aqua gently steered Saix to their living room and fumbled around for Saix's contact lenses. Saix had once tried contacts of all different colours, before settling on the shade of honey, that accentuated the paleness of her skin and the ethereal, sporadic enigma of her existence.

Saix shook her head at the contacts and curled up on the sofa, tucking her legs under herself and nearly disappearing into the anorak. Xemnas checked his watch – perhaps to signal that his work time was being eaten into – but he opted to sit at their diagonal, steeping his fingers and frowning into them.

"Do I sleep?" Saix said after a moment. "This condition that made Eraqus take me into his care. I'm out for days and then I wake up. Do I really sleep in between?"

Aqua bit her lip. Granted, the wall between Xemnas and Terra had been precarious at the best of times, but all it had taken from Xemnas was his realisation he could easily climb over for the controls. If Saix wanted something like that – the desire to reject her origins and be as human as she had been told she was – then what was to say that Isa wouldn't end up like Terra? Father was no longer around. If anything like that should happen, Aqua was too out of her league to resolve it.

She kept thinking of the text message, that blunt attempt to ruin Isa, as if Silverkey hadn't treated him badly enough. She wanted to protect Isa and yet, if she didn't tell Saix the truth, she knew someone who most certainly would.

"…You don't sleep," Aqua murmured. "You randomly switch out after a healthy duration of time, a-and then Isa switches in."

She didn't even scoff. Aqua could see how taught her neck muscles were, as if she was willing herself not to spit poison out. "So…I have this…this alternate personality, and there were no plans to tell me?"

"Eraqus warned me the truth could damage you."

"Damage me?" Saix repeated, her voice hollow, empty, like Xemnas' really. "Don't you think that's something I deserve to know? Some other being takes control of my body on a regular basis and you think keeping me in the dark is better?"

Xemnas sighed heavily. "You don't have an alternate personality, Saix," he said, speaking to her for the first time. "You _are_ the alternate personality."

For a moment, Saix continued to sit stock still. They waited, for the horrible truth to sink in, and the result was Saix trying to ride it out on a smile of disbelief. "W-what?"

"You're like me," Xemnas clarified. "You're a triggered response that balances out the original self. In your case, you're a foil for Isa, the same way I was born as a foil for Terra."

"Isa," Saix repeated, testing the name like it was tangible bitterness. "He's like Terra?"  

"Yes," said Xemnas. "Isa, however, is resilient. The wall between you both is sturdy enough. He can enjoy his life with regular appearances from you to keep his subconscious sane. That's as much as he needs you. You're a parasite, Saix. You claim _his_ body, not the other way round. For now, anyway."

Saix sat back, perhaps attempting to make herself smaller. She could easily be mistaken for a dishevelled Isa, with her standard clothes and green eyes. However, Isa would never have adopted such a defeatist pose, and enforced by Xemnas at that. "I'm like you," she repeated. She tugged at her hair and began to scoop it to one side, although there was no waiting hair band round her wrists.

"Being an alter doesn't make you any less of a person," Xemnas reasoned. He sat back, clearly to ensure Aqua was in his line of vision as he continued, "If anything, we're more equipped to handle the world. We were crafted from the survival instinct, after all. Who's to say you won't be strong enough to claim a proper life of your own—"

"Can you not?" Aqua cut in. "Isa's a person as much as Saix is. They're equal beings—"

"And yet," Xemnas spoke over her, complete with a dramatic wave of his hand, "you already class Isa as superior because of his status as the original self. That isn't equality."

"That's because Saix wouldn't even exist without Isa!"

"No, _Isa_ wouldn't exist, not without Saix grounding him with each appearance!"

"Guys," Saix muttered. "I really don't need this right now. I'm going to take a walk."

She stood up and crossed the room. Aqua opened her mouth to call after her, but she noticed Saix had been rubbing the side of her neck. When Saix's hand drew away for just a moment, Aqua saw the faintest red blur, a little kiss mark Lea had left for Isa. She knew Lea had meant no malice at all; in fact, his gentle nature could have given Terra a run.  

"You can't help him," Xemnas said softly. "If we defend Lea, what will that do to our campaign? Did he tell you he was in jail? He almost beat a man to death."

"What?" Aqua's head snapped up. Xemnas shrugged, unfazed by the news. He had never liked Lea, after all; he had just been using him to get ahead of Liam Gardiner, and now that had backfired. "Lea would never—"

"His criminal record begs to differ. If you know what's good for you, Aqua, you'll steer clear of him."

She scoffed, folding her arms. "I doubt you're saying that because you care."

"Quite right. Supporting Lea will damage the campaign. We don't want to associate ourselves with him, not in the lead up to the vote." He got up, slowly, lazily. In two short steps, he was in front of her. He took her wrist, and under the short spell of his curious eyes studying her painted nails, she thought he was going to let it go. But with a swift move that made her flinch and bite to keep her scream in, he gripped her like a bug he longed to crush. "You understand, yes?"

"Y-yes, of course I—"

He grabbed her chin with his free hand. She looked at him, hated him. "It's in your best interests to ensure my campaign is successful. Running a business isn't enough for me; I want to run a town. If I don't get this one, I'll find another. I'll leave you behind, and you'll never see Terra again. So I ask again, you understand, yes?"

She recoiled at the strength of his hand, digging into her jaw. "I understand," she breathed. "Please…just let me go."

 


	12. Chapter 12

At five to eleven, Inspector Leonhart began to close up the station for the night. Lea was still in his cell, accompanied only by a toilet, a worn bed and a very dull ache in his back. He had sat around for hours, fingers itching for a cigarette to calm his nerves, stomach growling for food, mind conjuring increasingly terrifying scenarios of what would happen to him now. Lea had had plenty of time to think of the consequences, especially when Leonhart had held loud conversations about him all day, giving him ideas.

Leonhart looked worse for wear as the hours went by. Without any news from Saix to press charges, all his day had consisted of was organising his officers to check no Mayoral fliers were being posted up where they weren't allowed – that and taking regular snipes at Lea, of course. After all that bullying, Leonhart yawned, stretched and grabbed his ring of keys. He made a point of checking Lea was locked in.

"Hope you're comfortable," he said, switching off the lights. All that lit up the office now was a pair of streetlights outside and the screen of the Inspector's phone. "I don't have specially assigned security for you, just the guards downstairs. You can reach them on that buzzer there. Just try not to have a seizure or anything, because they won't be here in an instant."

"Yeah, fine," Lea muttered. "You're in charge, I get it."

Leonhart rested his forearm against the rails that segmented Lea's view. "Even if you are released, your time in Silverkey is over. Tomorrow, the village is going to find out exactly who you are – a cowardly, filthy scumbag who almost battered a man to death. Trust me, if you get released, there's going to be a whole different kind of welcome waiting for you."

"Will there be cake?" Lea returned. He itched his knee and sat back against the cold wall, doing his best to look utterly unbothered. Behind his grin, he was panicking like crazy, but he wasn't going to give Squall the pleasure of seeing that.

"You're a funny guy." Leonhart stared at him, his expression suggesting he thought the exact opposite. "I wonder if you'll be laughing so much when you get put away. Or lynched by angry parents, whichever's more unpleasant. Goodnight, Murphy."

And with one last act of vehemence, Leonhart yanked open the window closest to the cell, so that Lea had a nice, cold breeze to keep him awake.

"Bastard," Lea called after him. Leonhart gave a small wave and skulked out the office, giving the door a pointed slam.

Lea exhaled and tried to get comfortable on the bed, which was rather like trying to rest on a big bag of nails. The mattress stunk, and Lea was wary of the smell rubbing onto him. He also wanted to go to the toilet – a basic need Leonhart had forgotten to consider when he opted to keep Lea in cuffs – but general discomfort wasn't what kept Lea awake. He was scared, and the one person he wanted to talk to wasn't around. Until Saix switched out – which could be days from now – Lea was completely on his own. No one was coming for him.

It was strange to think it had only been last night, when Lea had spoken the truth about himself and Reno. It had been liberating, soothing. Isa had seen past his appearance and history – he found beauty in them, even – and for the first time in so many years, Lea had felt reconnected to people again.

Lea knew he was in a very bad situation; however, as inappropriate as it was, he still felt so happy inside. Isa had shown him he didn't need Reno.

A while into his battle to sleep, Lea moved from the bed to the floor. With a small struggle, he freed his food tray of its plate and cup of water and sat on it to avoid the cold stone tiles from reaching him. He leaned against the wall, drawing his knees close to stay warm.

His stomach kept growling, unsatisfied with only a dry slice of fruit bread for the day's meal, and Lea thought about the numerous occasions when he had dined with the Allsands. The table had been set out perfectly, the conversations light and friendly. It was such a far cry to his life before jail, when he marched South Bank with the other Turks and tossed greasy newspapers and chips into the Thames. It was too much change at once. He was a Turk, a ruthless gang member; of course he wasn't ever going to be an acceptable Silverkey resident, talking campaigns and strawberry season and eating pastries.

Pastries.

He straightened up. He could smell pastries. A delicious scent of cinnamon filtered into his cell, and before Lea could assume he was creating delusions to ease his hunger, he looked through the bars to see a figure. The stranger had managed to enter the office while Lea had been busy feeling sorry for himself. There was the sound of paper rustling, and the smell became stronger than ever. Lea recognised the dark green box.

He licked his lips instinctively. His stomach growled. "…Are they from _Gongaga's_?"

"Sure are," the stranger answered. He was busy at Inspector Leonhart's desk, apparently searching for something.

"I didn't think _Gongaga's_ would be open at this kind of time," said Lea.

"Oh, it's open for me. Ah." The stranger finally found what he was looking for – the power switch to Leonhart's desk lamp. Lea presumed it had been buried under all the clutter of decorative paperwork. The room only lit up a little, but Lea could see the stranger at last: a tall, burly man who looked around forty. Lea swore he had seen that face somewhere before. Without warning, the stranger crossed the office and shook the box. It clattered against the bars. Lea took a sharp breath at the sight of steaming Danish pastries.

"Go on, son."

Lea did. Something rose in the back of his throat, a stabbing feeling of immense gratitude that couldn't escape in words. His fingers shook as he held the pastry, felt its warmth. He felt he could eat another two, and the stranger wordlessly obliged, leaving the box within reach outside the bars; he even set down a plastic cup of coffee. With him so close, Lea should have used the opportunity to study the stranger's face, to get an image of such kindness, but he was starving, so ravenous that after his first bite, he thought he was going to cry with relief.

The stranger walked back to Leonhart's desk, resting his feet on the table and pulling the telephone into his lap. Lea caught the harsh lines on his forehead and between his eyebrows, the jet black hair. He had definitely seen that face somewhere before. The stranger dialled, and as he rested the phone receiver in the crook of his neck and ate, he flicked through the records in Leonhart's tray.

"Good morning, Mr Wallace," he said after a moment. "It's Hewley."

Lea sat up straight with a painful jolt.

_Their cakes are so great, they even once made Lieutenant Hewley smile!_

"No, you heard correctly," he continued. "I agree, it is early indeed. Listen, Wallace, whatever you're printing, it stops now. Yes, you heard that right too." Hewley sat back in the leather chair, whose armrests creaked and knocked against the drawers. "Find a new headline. Write about Marlene's cold for all I care; just ensure Lea Murphy isn't in the paper."

Lea listened with bated breath. He couldn't believe what he was hearing; it sounded absolutely crazy. Perhaps Lea was having three o'clock hallucinations, because it sounded very much like a greater authority was saving his skin.

"It's in bad taste and is wholly unnecessary. Burn the copies. I want to see smoke coming out your house when I drive by." Hewley waited as presumably on the other end of the line, Mr Wallace broke into protests. "I've given you plenty of notice, so take heed to what I've said. If I see something I don't like on the shop rack come morning, you will face unimaginable torture at the hands of DCI Rhapsodos and his dreadful poetry." Hewley paused, his face expressionless as Mr Wallace answered. "Excellent. I'm pleased you understand. Goodnight."

Hewley ended the call and turned his attention to the mess of Leonhart's desk. He cherry picked the cluster of files, double checking his hand before deciding he had everything he needed. As he walked back, his shoes caught the slightest light from the lamp, as did the numerous badges on his shoulders. He walked comfortably in his stuffy uniform, boasting years of experience in policing. Lea had had taken spiteful delight in getting snarky with Leonhart, but the thought to treat Hewley in the same fashion didn't dare cross his mind.

"Axel Connors," Hewley said.

Lea shifted uncomfortably.  "I don't go by that any more."

"A wise decision." He leaned on the bars with one shoulder. "What I see in these files, when I read about Axel, is a cowardly, spineless lowlife, with no direction or honour. But you're not like that in Silverkey, are you?" Hewley snapped the file shut and tucked it under his arm. "I've heard a lot about you, Lea. Of course, as the Lieutenant for this group of towns, it's rather my business to know about its people."

Lea fidgeted (as best as he could in handcuffs). "It's fucking stupid, isn't it," he muttered. "I don't know who I was kidding."

The corners of Hewley's mouth tugged into a frown, and the orange light from outside drew harsh lines across his face. "So, this glowing report of your kindness was just you fooling around, putting it on."

"I don't know what it was," Lea said. "I'm just insecure as fuck. I'm a fucking child. I just wanted people to like me."

Hewley's frown increased. "You're in a cell, not a confession box."

"I know, I just…" Lea had the grace to look embarrassed, before he finished, "I don't understand how helping me benefits you."

"That's because you think I'm just the Lieutenant," Hewley answered. "I haven't always been based here. Thirteen years ago, I worked as a Chief Inspector on a case in Wiltshire."

"Wiltshire?" Lea repeated.

"Yes," said Hewley. He took a sip from his coffee and Lea, realising he was uncomfortably thirsty, stretched a hand through the bars and took his cup too. "You know which case, I'm sure. When Terra lost to Xemnas, Eraqus Liang took it as a sign to close his research and focus on helping Isa and the Allsands live as normally as they could in the circumstances. In order to facilitate this, they required continuous protection and understanding. This is my job," Hewley said. "I occasionally step in when the rules of society are not sympathetic to their situation; I ensure they can continue to enjoy life in Silverkey, and even more so in light of Eraqus' passing. Those two boys are of great importance to me, and it appears that much of Isaiah's happiness depends on you."

Hewley finished his coffee and tossed it into the bin behind an underfed plant. "Saix isn't pressing charges," he said.

Lea looked up so quickly, he cricked his neck. "She isn't? You spoke to her?"

"I spoke with Xemnas. You'll be out by the morning." Hewley studied his papers again. "I should warn you that even I have limitations to how much I can help. While I've stopped any official publication, I cannot guarantee the likes of Barrett Wallace and Inspector Leonhart keeping your history quiet. You will most likely have a gruelling few days ahead of you. I'm afraid Silverkey is ruthless with gossip and making their opinions heard."

Lea shook his head, unable to fight back a grin. "I can cope with that," he said. "As long as I stay in the town, I don't care."

It might have been a trick of the light, but Lea thought he saw the corner of Hewley's mouth twitch in a fleeting smile. "With the Mayoral vote only days away, you'll be shunned by both campaigns for your reputation, so you might not enjoy it so much in Silverkey any more."

"Silverkey is where Isa's always going to be," Lea returned. "I can't go anywhere else." He was only surprised afterwards at how quickly this answer came to him.

"Lay low until the vote's over," Hewley said. He took a deep breath and nodded, pleased with his efforts for the night. "I'll see you around."

"Thanks for the food," Lea called after him. Hewley waved a dismissive hand, and as the door clicked shut, Lea was left with just the cold for company again. He smiled thinly and reached for another pastry.

**-x-**

Despite her plan's success, Arlene couldn't rest easy on Saturday morning. She had farmhouses to inspect and campaign fliers to do the rounds; she had no time to stop and gloat in the wake of Lea Murphy's shattered reputation and the fact the Allsands were tainted by association. She still had the trigger in her knowledge, and it would only be a matter of time before Aqua figured out it was her, and that Arlene could easily blackmail her into submission.

Of course, Leonhart had unsurprisingly been outmanoeuvred by Lieutenant Hewley. It was disappointing to see the newspaper's headline was the announcement of the church's renovation, but Arlene expected it would be shushed by the Allsands' trump card. Still, all Arlene needed to do was fan the flames a little, and Silverkey would ostracise Lea Murphy all by itself.

"I can't believe it," said Liam. He was driving them to the farm to inspect the grounds and show Naminé the baby calves. "Did Leonhart say was Lea was arrested for? Fair enough that it was all just a misunderstanding, but I doubt he needed a scare like that. He's clearly been trying to put his past behind him."

"Yes, well, sometimes the past isn't the history we want it to be, is it," Arlene replied. "Sometimes, it stays _because_ we want to run away from it." She studied Naminé in their rear view mirror. She had a half-painted shoebox in her arms – it was her art project, which had started off all white and then ended up being spoilt by a classmate 'accidentally' flicking orange paint her way. Naminé hadn't minded, however, and had painted the base of the box in shades of green. Her project now required flowers to decorate the shoebox of her garden, and Liam had bought her coloured card to cut them out from.

"Ienzo was saying that the Allsands are standing by Lea. Aqua was there at half six in the morning to collect him from the station."

"I bet Xemnas liked that," Arlene remarked. "Still, it works out well for our campaign, right?"

"Yeah, about that," said Liam, parking the car and frowning at the flawless fields of wheat and barley. "Is this the result of your trip up to Wiltshire? What on earth did you do?"

"Nothing illegal," said Arlene. "I just used resources to get the Allsands at our mercy, that's all."

"I hope you've been gearing up for the consequences." Liam undid his seatbelt and nodded into the mirror. Arlene looked behind her and sure enough, there was a figure waiting outside the head barn, dressed in a navy tea dress and ankle boots. An uncontrollable spaniel was running around as much as his lead would let him, snapping at small flies.

"I've got it covered," Arlene said. "You go on ahead with Naminé."

She got out the car and slammed the door, and the sound prompted Aqua to look up from her shoes. Her lips were tight, and judging by the numerous heel marks around the fence, Aqua had been here a while.

"Quite a fair distance to walk your dog, Mrs Allsands," Arlene greeted. "Are you lost?" She touched her hair, which she had wrapped up into a tidy bun for the occasion of inspecting the farms. Aqua, by comparison, hadn't made much effort at all. She appeared to have forgotten what a brush was and there was a ladder up her tights.

"Pluto tends to follow the scent of shit," Aqua replied.

Arlene smiled. "I understand why you're feeling so emotional, of course. It must have been quite upsetting to learn exactly what Lea has been hiding from you. How lucky the truth came out before he could seize an opportunity to offend again."

Aqua scoffed. She gripped Pluto's lead as though the dog was the one restraining her. "He's a good man and you know it. How dare you encourage the village to turn against him when—"

"I don't encourage anything," Arlene cut in. She shifted her feet, opting for movement to prevent her expensive shoes from sinking into the soft dirt. "I merely lifted the lid. Silverkey reaches its own decisions about people; I can't be held accountable for their assumptions and prejudice."

"And the trigger?" Aqua prompted. She took a deep breath. "Was that you? Did you send that too?"

Arlene folded her arms, handbag knocking against her hip. This conversation was cutting into her day's work, but it was almost worth it to see Aqua so desperate and lost. "Yes, it was me."

"How on _earth_ did you—!"

"I exploited Dr Yen Sid's guilt by using my daughter." Arlene laughed, a shrill noise she knew had never seen a pleased recipient. "Don't be so surprised, Aqua. I played dirty; so did Xemnas. You think using Isa as a cheap seduction tactic would be enough to beat us?"

"Isa was never used like that," Aqua argued. "We campaigned honestly; we never resorted to anything like abusing family secrets, the way you have."

"Then that's your mistake, not mine," snapped Arlene. She took a step back to avoid Pluto. "I realise I've put you in an awkward situation, but I took necessary means to secure Liam's victory as the town's Mayor."

Aqua took a shuddering breath. "Arlene, I can't settle for Liam as Mayor. You don't understand – if Xemnas doesn't get the position then he's going to leave. He's going to leave me."

There had never been any hint of genuine affection between Xemnas and Aqua – on many occasions, this had been Arlene's solace when she saw Aqua and her twins. While Arlene struggled to form any kind of bond with Naminé, she had at least, an enviable relationship with Liam. Arlene had reached a stage where she couldn't actually remember life without him. He had always been around. As children, he had split his bread in half so they could feed the ducks together; as teens, Liam went to Burntcrest with her at the end of term to find a summer job. When they grew up, staying together was unequivocally logical, and once Arlene fell pregnant with Naminé, their commitment was inevitable. There was no greater certainty in Arlene's life than knowing she and Liam would always have one another. When she compared that certainty to Aqua's relationship with Xemnas and knew she was one of the lucky ones, Arlene was too far gone for pity.

"Your marital problems don't concern me," she said. "What does concern me, however, is your failure to fully comprehend the situation you're in. I know Isa's trigger, and I can very easily publicise it and make your life impossible to live here."

Aqua shuddered out a breath, staring down at Pluto. "…Name your price," she said quietly.

"Your campaign posters will be half size and spare throughout the village. Your promotions are to steer clear of the school and the farmlands. When asked about Lea, you may by all means vouch for him; it only weakens your family's reputation." Arlene searched around her handbag for her phone. "Ah, I'm late for a meeting. You'll have to excuse me."

Aqua, of course, couldn't settle without the last word. She took a few steps forward, nearly tripping over Pluto. "You bitch," she called after her. "I can't believe you'd happily be so vile if it means you get more power in this town. Don't you already own enough?"

Arlene scoffed, rising to the bait. "Please, Mrs Allsands, don't pretend you know anything about me." She studied Aqua up and down, gesturing to her mismatched appearance. "Your life is a shambles and you make no effort to hide it; I, however, am a little more subtle. You're misguided to think this is just a power trip."

"Then what?" Aqua demanded. "What is so great that you have to destroy my family to obtain it?" Finally, Pluto broke free. He bounded past the fence and began to run through the grass, barking in delight.

Arlene shook her head and started to walk away. "Unlike you," she called over her shoulder, "I'm very careful with my family secrets."

She began to head towards the silos, leaving Aqua to call Pluto's name in a mix of a shout and a sob.


	13. Chapter 13

Lea heeded Lieutenant Hewley's words and lay low for that weekend. He had only seen Aqua, when she had turned up at the station and offered to drive him home. She too, had advised for him to refrain from venturing out. Every inch a mother, Aqua was trying to protect him from harm, but Lea was not the type to stay indoors.

He soon realised his mistake, however, when he visited the shops to buy some cigarettes. At first, people just stared, judging him in the silence; it was only when he left that they resumed talking. At the counter, the shopkeeper crept around him, practically throwing the cigarettes and change at him. Lea was no stranger to being feared – it was a prerequisite as a Turk – but he hadn't done anything remotely threatening. He had to wonder if this was going to be his way of life from now on; then, he thought something even more uncomfortable. Would this cold treatment be dished out to everyone who happened to care about him? Aqua, her boys, Isa – were they setting themselves up for a difficult life because of him?

On Sunday morning, Lea didn't even bother getting out of bed. He lay in the sheets, staring at the pillow next to him, touching the empty space and pretending Isa was there. Everything would be all right once Isa was back. Without him, Lea felt at a loss for what to do. Isa knew the workings of the village and could attest to how bad gossip normally went down; Lea just had to wait it out.

At half past eleven, his doorbell went. Lea couldn't quite see the front door from his window, and it could have been a lynch mob until he realised mobs probably didn't ring out of courtesy. He pulled on his cargos and a vest, and opened the door to see Saix.

"Hey," he stuttered in surprise. She wasn't like he last saw her. Saix's yellow contacts were back in, she had plaited her hair to one side and her striped jumper dress looked brand new.

"Hey," she murmured. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

Lea bit his lip. "Sure, uh…do you want to come in?"

"Th-thank you."

Saix glanced around the porch before placing her pumps in the corner. She seemed curious about his place, touching the fabric of his jackets and casting a quick glance upstairs. It was then that Lea realised Saix had never seen his house; he had only ever brought Isa over. Lea babbled something about making a drink, and he directed Saix to the living room.

After a flustered attempt of making tea, Lea joined Saix on the sofa. She took her mug gratefully, sat with her legs tucked under her. She said thank you, and Lea felt that the civility had to be a good sign. "Listen…I uh, wanted to say thanks for you know…not pressing charges."

Saix gave a thin smile. "I…I couldn't have my beer buddy in jail," she muttered.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, and I feel really terrible about what I put you through. It must have scared the shit out of you to have woken up next to a tattooed freak like me. I'm sorry."

Saix shook her head. "I put you through a similar nightmare, so I'm sorry too. I didn't come here for an apology; I just…I wanted to talk to someone, I guess."

"Join the club," Lea returned dully. "Everything I thought I had put behind me is now the hot topic of conversation at the breakfast table. I've got myself in a right mess and I haven't got a clue what to do."

Saix pulled a cushion to her lap and started to play with one of its tassels. "I can listen," she suggested.

"No, my problems can wait. So come on, you wanted to talk," said Lea. "Has everything been okay at home?"

Saix's mouth twitched, as though he had said something funny. She took refuge in the curls of steam that escaped her mug, staring them down. "I'm an alter," she muttered. "Apparently, I'm the last person to find out. I can't believe I've been so stupid all these years to think I just slept my time out. Eraqus took care of Terra and me; any sensible person would have worked out we were given the same treatment."

"Eraqus and Aqua shielded you from the truth to keep the wall intact, to keep you both protected," Lea said. "They did it because they cared. You know that, right?"

"Funny that it makes things worse instead," Saix answered.

Lea sighed and sank back into the cushions. "Trust me, I know how that feels. I had a brother who did a lot of weird shit to me because he cared. Regardless of intentions, you do have a right to be upset, you know."

"I don't know if I even am upset. I don't know what I feel. It sounds stupid, doesn't it? I've always been so certain in my ignorance; today, I just wonder if anything I do is real at all. I'm not a person – just a shade of one, a female personality, someone else's emotional vent." Saix shrugged, but it convulsed into a strange spasm of her left arm. She started as though someone had just jabbed her, and she sloshed tea over herself. Lea leapt up for the tissue box, but Saix made no sign she had felt being scalded at all.

"Saix, you're more than just a personality. I think I can vouch for that given that I know both you and Isa," he replied. He handed her some tissues. "You've got your own ambitions and thoughts; just because you're an alter, that doesn't mean you don't exist."

"That's what Xemnas keeps saying to me," Saix replied. "Maybe that's why I question it. He's told me to embrace and then challenge who I am."

Lea sat back in confusion. "Huh? What does that mean?"

Saix smiled apologetically. "He thinks I should copy him and take full possession of the body."

Lea felt his stomach churn at the thought, although he fought hard not to let it show. Isa had voiced this exact concern not long ago. It had just been a minor worry before, but now that Saix was conscious and aware of her origins – and with Xemnas whispering in her ear – there was proof enough that it could very well happen. Lea felt sick just thinking about it.

"He calls us 'superior' beings," Saix said. "We were created to help the original self cope, so the very nature of us is advanced."

Grimly, Lea thought of how flustered and irrational Isa was in comparison to Saix. Saix and Xemnas had a calm and organised core, that kept them effortlessly level and in control. While they were still emotive, Lea couldn't deny that they had a more progressive way of handling it, like an automatic function in their brain that separated whites from colours, while everyone else just waded their way through the mess.

Saix could play the piano, read music on first glance and win someone over just by smiling at them. She was the collected self Isa was missing and could only subconsciously reproduce, and with Saix at such a level now, surely Isa was redundant.

"I think Isa's at your mercy," Lea said after a minute.

Saix shifted, and she stretched out her left leg to nudge his shin. "Actually, I'm at yours."

"What?" Lea looked up in surprise.

"I'm interference, aren't I," said Saix. "White noise before your favourite station."

"You're not white noise," Lea replied immediately. He wanted to reach out and take her shoulders, to reassure her, but he was afraid to close the gap between them. "Saix, just because Isa's got a partner doesn't mean we're one up on you."

"We can discuss rights all day," Saix replied, her voice suddenly heavy. "Can I…can I just tell you how I feel?"

Lea nodded. "Of course." He put down his mug for emphasis.

"I don't want to do to you what Xemnas did to Aqua. I've thought a lot these last couple of days about who I am, and that's all there is to it. Xemnas thinks I can overpower Isa, and maybe I can. But just because there's cake on the table, doesn't mean I have to eat it to prove I'm capable of doing so. Do you know what I mean?" Saix tugged at her wet jumper. There were no stammers or stalls in her voice; she could have rehearsed it, but Lea knew it was more a catharsis for her to talk. "I'm a strange personality borrowing someone else's body, like an occasionally useful parasite. I started as that, and that's all I should be."

"You're not a parasite," Lea cut in before he could stop himself. "You're…you're like a part time person."

Saix laughed nervously, the tension in her shoulders disappearing. "Well, only if it isn't too much bother to you and Isa, I'd love to stay part time and keep my allotted days. I only want to stay with Aqua, and see Roxas and Ven grow up. I daren't ask for anything more."

Lea raked his hair with his hands, pulling up his sweatband to push his fringe out his eyes. "I knew what I was getting into when I got together with Isa. You've a right to exist independently to us. We'll all work around it. Well, as much as we can with the trigger in the wrong hands, anyway. I'm not sure what's happening about that."

"It was Arlene," Saix said. She clenched the body of her mug like it was a throat she longed to choke. "I suppose she realised it was easier to smear your name when it was clear you'd sided with the Allsands, than try and win you back. I'm sorry for all the things they're saying about you. Will you be all right at work tomorrow?"

"Just got to keep my head down," Lea replied. "I bet Xemnas is pissed with me for botching his campaign."

Saix laughed nervously. "It's more a cold fury directed at everyone at the moment," she said. "He's opted to protect the trigger but I feel he's biding his time for something. He's argued with Aqua a couple of times, but the boys just make me play the piano really loud to drown it out." She fidgeted with the end of her hair and added quietly, "I um…I should get going, really. I promised Aqua I'd walk Pluto with the boys. Do you want to come?"

"Nah, don't worry about me," said Lea, waving a hand and pretending he wasn't desperate to go at all. "I've got lots of stuff to sort through," he improvised lamely. Thankfully, Saix chose to oversee his lie. She stood up and her toes scrunched up against his carpet.

"I wonder if I could perhaps hug you," she said. "Would that be strange?"

Lea hadn't realised how much he needed that base level of comfort until he received it. Saix rocked from side to side a little, her arms a gentle loop round his back. She didn't feel at ease – Lea could tell she just felt sad, helpless. Saix squeezed him, as though any hurt on Lea's part could be taken away with that alone; when Lea felt her against him, wet jumper and all, he nearly believed it.

**-x-**

Roxas' weekend had been horrible, following Lea getting into trouble and Mum and Dad arguing all of yesterday about it. They wouldn't explain what was going on and sent him and Ven away with promises they'd _talk later_. Of course, no such thing happened, and all Roxas could discern was that Mum had made a mistake and ruined the campaign for Dad. Saix too, seemed reluctant to talk about the truth, and tried to patch over the raw wounds of their family by singlehandedly cooking a roast.

Throughout the weekend, Mum frequently went into Roxas and Ven's room and hugged them without explanation. Roxas felt that these days were the worst, because Mum wasn't trying to comfort them; she was looking for some comfort herself, and Roxas was powerless to help. Like Ven, he resented how little he could do because he was only ten; all he could do was bring attention to her sadness, like waving from a marooned island. Things had been going so well, especially with Lea around. He made Isa the happiest Roxas had ever seen him and that in turn, had got Mum to sing and smile again.

Things were not much better at school. Roxas and Ven had agreed to protect Lea by maintaining their silence, yet their classmates asked them for information. Even Xion tugged Ven's shirt sleeve nervously and said, "My dad heard from Mr Wallace that Lea's a bad man. Is that true?"

It had been working. Surely a bad man hadn't saved Mum.

Throughout the morning, Roxas sat at the back of the classroom and copied Hayner's notes in their geography lesson. They were learning about maps and how to read them, and their objective today was to answer questions using a real and detailed map of Devon; however, Roxas had his textbook turned to the back, to a map of whole world, pressed onto a double spread. France was so close to England, really. Mum always spoke of it like it was on a different planet. Surely, if he and Ven and Isa worked hard enough, they could find the money to move to France. It wasn't as good as finding their real dad, but at least Roxas knew where France was by comparison.

During break, Ven shot out to the playground with Xion. Roxas, on the other hand, loitered in the corridors out of the teachers' sight, trying to use his twenty minutes as effectively as possible. In the end, Roxas figured he might stand more chance if he chose a spot and waited, so he picked a bench in the cloakroom furthest from his classroom. He had a good view of down the corridor, such that when Lea eventually pushed through the double doors with his cleaning trolley, Roxas spent two minutes watching him, waiting to see any evidence of him being a _bad man_.

Lea didn't seem surprised to see him squashed between two summer macs. He picked up a sweet wrapper Roxas had thrown into the corridor for his attention. "Hey, kid," said Lea. "You all right?"

"I'm fine. The class was talking about you this morning."

Lea didn't look like he wanted to talk. He swept round the cloakroom, picking up stray plimsolls and putting them back on the benches. "Yeah, everyone's talking at the moment," Lea said finally.

Roxas looked up from his schoolbag. "They say you're a bad person."

Lea exhaled and scratched his left arm. "…I dunno, Roxas; maybe I am. You definitely all right? How's your mum?" He snapped the elastic of his gloves against his wrist.

"She's arguing a lot with Dad," Roxas admitted. "Dad reckons you should have told him about your past."

"Before he used me to sell himself?" said Lea. He sat down next to him; his knees jutted out to prove he was too big for the bench. "It wasn't really for him to know. It was personal. It's all right, though. They say that the truth will out, so all this was only a matter of time."

Roxas fiddled with the strap of his bag. "So is the stuff true? Are you a bad person?"

He sat back with a loud sigh, rubbing the back of his head. "I haven't always been good. Sometimes, you fall into the wrong crowd and don't even know it. I've made a lot of mistakes, but the next step from that is to learn from them. And it's kinda hard to do that if people don't give you the chance, you know? It's like clipping a bird's wings and then yelling at it because it won't fly." He offered Roxas a weary smile. "You been having fun in your lessons?"

Roxas shrugged and gave a brief summary. He knew Lea was trying to avoid talking about himself, but Roxas couldn't let the subject go. "Marlene said her dad called you an axe murderer."

"An axe—?" Lea started. He scoffed and began to rake his hair; then, he thought better of it when he saw his rubber gloves. "Fucking hell, that's not gossip; that's just slander. Fuck Marlene's dad; who the fuck is Marlene's dad to me? Sorry," Lea added under his breath. "I'm just a bit fed up. To be honest, Roxas, I'm not up for talking at the moment."

He stood up in a bid to escape, but Roxas blurted out the sentence he had been sitting on all morning. It worked as well as swinging an iron chain round Lea's ankles and tripping him up. "Please don't leave Silverkey."

Lea gripped his cleaning trolley. His back was hunched; he showed a subtle nervousness, a bit like Grandpa Eraqus anticipating Mum shouting at him for playing mah-jong with real money. "Don't guilt trip me like that, Roxas."

"Please don't leave," he said again. "I know everyone's saying nasty things but it doesn't matter to me. And it doesn't matter to Mum, either. Please, Lea, I can't bring Dad back, and we can't go to France either. But you make a difference if you stay. Mum's happier because of you. W-we think you're really fun. You're really important to Isa _and_ Saix; that makes you part of our family."

Lea smiled, but Roxas didn't think it looked right. It was as though Lea wanted to grin and laugh, yet there was someone invisible watching them, stopping him. "Thanks, Roxas," he replied.

Roxas stood up, his heart in his throat. "I'll drop litter," he said decisively. "I'll empty all the rubbish out in school so you have to stay here forever to clean it."

Lea broke into a watery smile. "That's probably one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me. Listen, uh…I've got to get back to work. Let's talk later, yeah?"

Roxas shrugged and found a weak smile. "Sure." He didn't bother telling Lea that _talking later_ was exactly what adults never did.

**-x-**

The campaign posters had gone out in full force over the weekend. Daddy had spent a lot of time on his ones. Naminé could still remember a few months ago, when Daddy took the opportunity of one sunny afternoon in April to get some photographs taken. He had only needed seven, but the shutter clicked again and again, until the photographer had hundreds of photos for Daddy and Mummy to choose from. They stayed up til late – Naminé could hear them from her room, their voices her lullaby – and they picked out the right photos, the right text, the right colours.

Naminé didn't think the people of Silverkey really understood just how much effort Daddy was making. She had counted the campaign posters, feeling a giddy burst of pride at the pink fliers that brightened up the dreary walk to school.

When she got to the classroom, however, a handful of fliers had been left on her desk. Daddy's face had been defaced with scribbles and moustaches. Kairi took one look at the papers and pointed to the bin. "Throw them away, Naminé," she said. "They want you to get upset over them, and it's not worth it. The posters have no reason to be here; it's not as though anyone here can even vote."

Naminé could hardly hear Kairi – and this disconnection hadn't ever happened before. Kairi was her anchor, who stood in the doorway between fantasy and reality and made the transition kind for her. Kairi was an elaborate figment of Naminé's imagination, born from her self-hatred. She was everything Naminé wanted to be and at first, Kairi had been good for her. She was a reassurance, a support Naminé could rely on. But now, Naminé had reached a point when she was quite sure Kairi was the only good she could project.

It was because of her that people were drawing on Daddy. She was wrong, pulling him down. She didn't fit in at school and that was an extra worry for her parents. Everything she did seemed to just make things worse, like patching up an old bucket to then find out she had broken the handle doing so. She dreaded to think about if he didn't win the campaign, because surely it'd be her fault. If he wasn't so busy trying to fix her…!

"Don't cry," said Kairi, who was the only one to spot her do so. "You're not a failure. Look, don't you think Daddy would be happier to see you after school with your finished project than you being upset about a few posters?" Kairi nodded to the back of the classroom. That was where her classmates stored their shoebox projects, but Mr Friday kept Naminé's locked in his office to prevent any attempts to ruin it. Naminé hated her shoebox and thought it looked better when she kept it as a white room. Now, it was bright green and splayed out like a frog's vivisection, and no matter how hard Naminé tried, she couldn't get the flowers to look right.

"They look okay," said Kairi. "It doesn't have to look perfect, you know."

Naminé didn't say anything. Kairi knew as well as she did that the box looked awful. Naminé had spent a lot of her weekend cutting out flowers from the coloured card Daddy had bought her; however, she couldn't cut straight and the stems kept breaking in the grip of her sweating fingertips. They looked so fake, so unnatural. Naminé kept thinking of the occasions when she had said she was fine to Daddy when she wasn't, the numerous occasions when Mummy had said Naminé's hair was so beautiful when it wasn't even close.

Was there anything more ugly than a lie?

She sat back in her seat, closing her eyes to the sound of whispers around her. She chewed her lip, and when she reopened her eyes, an idea hit her like the rapid snap of a dog changing direction.

"Real flowers," she muttered.

Kairi sat up in her seat, a pink pencil spinning round her fingers. She nodded at Naminé eagerly. "You should do it!" she whispered. "Let's go together after school."

**-x-**

A lot had happened in Isa's absence. Never in all his occasions of switching back into his body had he been met with such a plethora of crises. Aqua told him everything, while Xemnas sat in the living room on his laptop. For someone whose campaign had just crumbled, he seemed very unaffected. It was only when Aqua took him up the garden to pretend to feed the fish that she burst into tears and announced Xemnas was leaving her.

"Don't," Aqua had said. "Don't tell Lea; it's not his fault."

But it was, really. Isa and Lea had got too carried away with one another that they didn't stop to think of the consequences. If Lea had come clean about his reputation, the Allsands might have been able to help him bury it properly. If Isa had listened to Xemnas all along and behaved in the family's best interests, he wouldn't have formed a relationship crafted especially for Arlene Goldsmith to destroy. In retrospect, if he and Lea had just paced themselves enough until the election was over, this wouldn't have happened at all.

Isa drove to Silverkey Primary School. It was still during Lea's work hours, but Isa strode through the gates and called him out on his mobile. Isa's trigger was in the hands of Silverkey's most venomous witch, but still his biggest concern was Lea and their future together. As Isa strode up the upper school playground to where Lea was parking his trolley and peeling off his gloves, his heart thundered in his head and he kept thinking over and over, _Please don't split up with me. Please don't let all of that have come to nothing._

"Hey." Lea hugged him tight, exhaling. Isa found it difficult to let go of him. That perfect combination of vanilla and smoke had sent his thoughts rushing back to the other night, where these shaking fingers had confidently sent Isa spiralling out of control in a tangle of limbs and sheets.

"Are we still together?" Isa asked. He couldn't even manage a greeting and had gone straight for the source of his anxiety instead. "We're still together, right?"

"As far as I know." Lea rested his head in the crook of Isa's neck. He felt unusually tense. "I've totally fucked up, haven't I."

"Maybe," Isa admitted, "but that's no reason to leave Silverkey. Please, don't go."

Lea grinned tiredly. "I've already had the 'don't go' speech from Roxas. I want to stay – of course I do – but if it does you guys more harm than good, then I have to rethink. I can't keep screwing all of you over. I'm kicking myself," he added, pulling away from him. "I shouldn't have hidden my record. I wanted to forget about it but I should have realised that doesn't make it irrelevant."

"It doesn't matter. Even if you had been honest from the start, Arlene still would have blackmailed us. She'd have found another way." They held hands, and Isa studied their interlocked fingers. Speaking to them, because Lea's gaze was difficult to meet, Isa admitted that on the back of a failed campaign, Xemnas was going to leave town.

"Shit," Lea breathed, raking his hair and taking a step back. "Shit. After everything Aqua's done for me—"

"She's pretty upset about it, but I don't know…maybe it's better for her. She's spent ten years with him and for what? Terra's gone, and all Xemnas does is remind her of it." Isa glanced up at Lea, hoping he'd fill the silence with kisses.

"Surely Arlene's broken some a load of campaign rules, if she's blackmailing you? Couldn't we speak to Lieutenant Hewley?"

"We can't prove it," Isa replied. "Smearing your name is the beauty of it. Arlene isn't in control of what the people of Silverkey say so she can't be held responsible. Any bias the townspeople have will be attributed to their dislike of you rather than Aqua acting on the blackmail. Unfortunately, Arlene knows what she's doing."

Lea hugged him tight, and Isa returned it. Isa felt utterly miserable, but there was a small part inside of him that was still reeling about their night together, and in this current dilemma, he couldn't enjoy the newfound buzz without it seeming inappropriate. "Some wanker keyed my car."

Isa drew away. "The Bug? You're joking!"

"Wish I was," Lea said dully. "Talk about an innocent victim. She didn't deserve to bear the brunt of my crimes."

"We can take her to Burntcrest to get fixed," Isa assured him. He gave him a kiss, and Lea cupped the side of his face securely for better access. Without warning, Lea then stiffened and pulled away.

"What's that term when you're talking about someone and they randomly show up?"

"Speak of the devil?" Isa tried. He blinked, confused.

"Yeah, that." Lea gave a tiny nod and surreptitiously, Isa followed his gaze. Sure enough, the tiny figure of Arlene Goldsmith was coming out of the school's main reception, and heading right their way. In a bizarre moment of panic, Isa felt relieved that at least they had a collection of brooms with which to defend themselves if Arlene tried to attack them.

Isa was only half right. As soon as Arlene was within reach, she swung up a hand, but Lea was her only target. She slapped him across the cheek, so strong that it echoed in the playground. Isa started shouting, but Arlene's screams topped his. She was incoherent, her hair was starting to fall out of its neat bun; she just shrieked in Lea's face before bursting into tears. It was the first time Isa had seen her look so human.

"You bastard! Where is she?" she screeched. She slapped him again, but Lea was resilient when it came to pain; Isa was aware of that. Lea just held up his hands and said, "Calm down! Who?"

"What do you mean, _who_? Naminé!" Arlene's voice became horrifically shrill in the silence. She aimed to strike Lea again, but Isa reacted in time and grabbed her wrist. "You _sick_ , fucking bastard," she screamed at him. "What the hell have you done with her? Where is she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lea stammered.

"Don't give me that rubbish; your job is to clean it, not to spout it," Arlene snarled. "You resent me for what I did to secure the campaign, so this is your idea of revenge. How fucking dare you. How dare you come near my daughter! I swear to God if you've hurt her, I'm going to kill you—!"

Lea's protests were going unheard, and Isa's efforts to restrain her were rewarded with a swift jab from her sharp elbow to his ribs. "Get off me!"

"I haven't seen Naminé all day, Arlene," said Lea. His face had gone pale. "I don't know where she is; I swear on my life."

"Liar!" Arlene spat, but her venom gave way to tears. She brought a shaking hand to her mouth. "She's supposed to be here…! She was supposed to go to the after school club and I'd pick her up at five o'clock, but Ienzo says she never showed up."

"Surely you understand if we're not feeling particularly sympathetic towards you," Isa said callously. "Your problem, not ours." He turned to Lea, hoping to see him express the same sentiments. However, Lea took Arlene's shoulder instead.

"She's been missing for two hours?" he clarified. "Shit," he breathed as Arlene cried hysterically. "It's all right; we'll help you find her."

Isa rounded on him, about to seriously question this unwarranted sympathy, when two more figures – Ludor Lawrence and Ienzo Friday – strode up the playground to join them.

"I've rang Mr Gardiner," said Ienzo. "He's on his way. Isa, Lea – I don't suppose either of you have seen Naminé."

They shook their heads, and Ludor adjusted the front of his waistcoat. "I'll check the school again. Ienzo, perhaps you could check Naminé's usual route. She may have just wandered off home."

"I told you, she wouldn't do that," Arlene cried. "She's a good girl; she doesn't wander off! She's never wandered off. She's been taken by someone; she's been taken by _him_!" She tried to whack Lea again, but Ludor took her hand gently. Despite his calming, impartial approach, Isa did see the Headmaster furtively check inside the bins on Lea's trolley, as if Naminé was actually in one of them.

"I'll take my car," said Lea. "I'll drive round to see if I can spot her."

"Take Miss Goldsmith with you," said Ludor. Lea nodded, and though he owed absolutely nothing but contempt to her, he took Arlene's arm like she was a dear friend. Isa was struck by the sight, because at that moment, Lea was the perfect image of Terra. Isa's stomach twisted into uncomfortable knots of guilt and admiration, and he wondered why in comparison, he had reacted with malice and unkindness, as though he was Xemnas.


	14. Chapter 14

The after school club finished at five o'clock, and Kairi's idea was for them to be back at the gates before Mummy could realise they had ever left the school grounds. When she would find out, it'd be too late and she'd be cross, but Naminé was armed with her garden, and Mummy would be more happy than angry. Together, Naminé and Kairi followed the winding paths of the marshlands to comb the grass for wild flowers.

"You got a flower press for Christmas last year," said Kairi. "I can't believe we've only just thought of it now."

Naminé set her schoolbag down on an overturned log and carefully set her shoebox on top. Her hands were already filled with little paper bags to collect the flowers and grass in. "How about these?" She clambered over a cluster of small rocks and ran her fingers over a lone clump of purple flowers. However, Kairi glanced down at Naminé's T-strap flats, at the sound they made when they trod into the damp soil. She giggled, and Naminé bit her lip in a tentative smile. She lifted her foot and brought it down slowly.

 _Squelch_!

Naminé burst out laughing.

**-x-**

"What do you mean, she's gone missing?"

At ten to six, Aqua was trying to cook dinner and maintain a sense of normality even on the cusp of losing her husband completely. Roxas and Ven were screaming in the living room as they played a video game; Aqua had to cover her other ear to hear Isa on the end of the phone.

"Naminé's gone missing," he said again. "The Goldsmith-Gardiners have messed up somewhere and their daughter's just gone. She's not at school; we can't find her."

Aqua pursed her lips. She watched her collection of simmering saucepans and tugged at her hair nervously. "Isa…oh, I don't know. That family will do anything to get their campaign to succeed. Has it occurred to you this might…you know, be another ploy?"

"It feels pretty real," Isa returned grimly. "Look, I care about the Goldsmith-Gardiners as much as you do, but Lea's trying to be a saint. Can you ask the twins? See if they might know anything about where Naminé could have gone?"

"Give me a second." Aqua sighed and stuck her head round the living room door. "Boys, can you pause that game?"

Roxas smacked a button on his controller and looked up. Ven was on the verge of tears, clearly losing the game, but Aqua couldn't comfort him now. "Did either of you speak to Naminé today? Did she say anything about going somewhere today?"

Roxas glanced back at the television screen, as if the answers were within his current level of collecting all the rings. "Er…I didn't speak to her today, I don't think."

Ven studied his fingers and then jumped to his feet, throwing his controller aside. "Roxas, you lied! We did speak to her, this morning before registration…!"

"What did she say?" Aqua pressed.

"Well, I said good morning, and then she said good morning back," Ven said, folding his arms and looking up at the ceiling.

"Oh for God's sake, Ven!" Isa shouted on the other end of the phone.

"Anything else? Something informative," said Aqua. "Did she talk about what she was going to do today? Anything?"

"Not really," Ven replied. "Erm…I think most of it was me talking."

"Yeah it was," Roxas chipped in. "She looked dead bored. Oh! She did talk about cardboard, I remember now!"

"Cardboard?" Aqua repeated. ("What the hell? Cardboard?" Isa said down the phone.)

"Yeah, something about her project," Roxas said. "She said it still looked like cardboard."

"Something about her project; does that help? Thanks boys," she added. She hurried back to the kitchen, nudging Pluto out the way with a foot. "Keep me posted, Isa."

**-x-**

Naminé folded up her mac into a neat rectangle so that they could both sit on it, but Kairi waved her hand. "Don't worry about me."

The rock wasn't very comfortable, but Naminé liked the rough, imperfect feel of nature. It was nothing like the sterile and featureless faces of Dr Newcombe's office, her room, her own reflection. When Naminé leaned across the rock to sketch the scenery to eventually stick on the sides of her box, the crags and bumps of the surface dug into her arms, creating temporary, unique patterns.

"What time is it?" Naminé asked. Her stomach was rumbling. She sat up, seeing Kairi on the rock opposite her. The two of them stared at one another, and then Naminé remembered Mummy casually taking her phone apart at their dining table at breakfast.

She didn't have the time on her.

**-x-**

The Beetle bore a new and prominent scar across its body. Arlene didn't know who had struck the car, but she knew the action was testament to her own callous exploitation of its owner. It was a bitter, disgusting taste of irony, to know she had Lea Murphy all wrong. She had heard of his kindness and how it jarred with his appearance; yet, instead of opening her eyes to this elegant shake up to Silverkey's obsession with correctness, she had attacked it instead, like warding off apparent evil with a branch of fire.

Now, it was Lea taking care of her, driving through the village's country lanes and narrow streets with all windows down. Arlene could barely see through her tears, and her phone rested in her shaking hands, depriving her of any information on her daughter's whereabouts.

"Her project still looked like cardboard," Isa relayed from the front passenger seat. He turned round and glared at Arlene. "Does that mean anything to you?"

Arlene dabbed at the corner of her eyes, hitting the side of her head to think straight. "H-her project's an art project. It's a shoebox…She was uh…she said today was the last day to work on it; it's due in tomorrow, I think. She worked on it this weekend just gone. I was helping her cut out flowers from card."

"As you do, in between ruining people's lives," Isa snapped.

"Give it a rest, Is'," Lea uttered. He craned his neck to look down the street while wheeling the car into the next road. His gaze caught Arlene's in the rear view mirror for a second. "Is there any chance she might have gone somewhere to finish it because she ran out of time at school?"

"Maybe," Arlene managed. "But she's a good girl, she just doesn't run off…!"

"You know, this would never happen if you had got Naminé a phone," Isa commented. Arlene pursed her lips and took a shuddering breath. She didn't dare admit that she had always kept a phone on Naminé, but it was that phone from which she had sent Isa's trigger; as such, she had destroyed it to cover herself.

This was punishment, Arlene decided, her eyes stinging with fresh tears as they spattered onto her hands. Everything she had done, she had done for Naminé's eventual benefit, but she had behaved in such a roundabout way, she had hurt too many people in the process. This had to be punishment.

**-x-**

"It's still early," said Kairi. She pointed upwards to the sun. It hadn't even started setting, so it couldn't be that late. Naminé drew her legs up tighter to avoid touching the mud. The waters up ahead were still, unruffled. There were large clumps of wild grass but now that Naminé studied the view, they looked smaller. Their reflections glittered in the water.

"I'm hungry," Naminé murmured. It had to be near tea time for her stomach to rumble this much. "We should go back."

Kairi nodded and looked round to where they had left their belongings, but it was only when Naminé saw for herself that they could both react.

"The water," Naminé stammered. She stood up on the log, except it wasn't really a log but a shrinking pebble of land. It was submerging, like a dog fighting to keep its head above water. Naminé looked beyond her pictures and saw horror around her. Her schoolbag had been kept high and safe on the rock but now its straps were lapping at the water. She watched, in a painful mix of surprise and despair, as her shoebox rocked in the breeze and slid off its perch into the wet grass.

Naminé looked up at the dirt path and large bushes she had skipped through to get here, but they were gone. Dry land was well into the distance, and if Naminé didn't know any better, she had been carried out to sea by the quietest of waves.

Her heart hammered against her ribcage as she panicked. She was in a bad situation, but everything felt so normal, so still. There were birds lined up in the trees, dragonflies skirting the reeds. Kairi was waiting at the shore. Naminé had been drawn into a false sense of security, like all those animals on Mummy and Daddy's farm; she was meeting her end in the most peaceful of surroundings.

She squealed and shuddered as she edged down the log. Water ran into her shoes and drenched her socks. It was cold, muddy, sticky. She tried to find a route back to the shore, but everywhere she tested her feet outside of the log, she felt nothing solid.

She was going to have to swim, and the last time she had done that was on her birthday last year, when Mummy took her to a swimming pool and they wore matching costumes. Naminé hadn't liked the wave machine, and she refused to swim more than six feet away from Mummy.

Naminé swallowed; she couldn't do it, even to save her life. Her fears must have been heard, for without warning, her foot slipped on the log and she plunged.

Her screams met the water. She squeezed her eyes shut as the world around her went black, silent.

"Help," shouted Kairi. "Someone, help me please!"

Naminé struggled. She burst through the surface with a tremendous gasp that made her cry, and she grappled for something to hang on to. "Daddy," she screamed. "Daddy!"

- **x-**

Liam had been tending to a labouring horse when he got the phone call from Ienzo Friday. He couldn't remember how that conversation had gone at all, only that it ended with him staring into the stable, at the tired mare and the beautiful foal mid-delivery.

 _You don't understand_ , he thought he said. _That's my baby. You have no idea how much went into creating her, nurturing her. You can't just take that away from me._

Silverkey had never felt so vast. He and Arlene had spent so much of their time with affectionate complaints of their home and its confinement; if it really was so restricting, though, wouldn't it be easy to find Naminé? Liam had no idea where to start. He had mostly assumed that she'd be there when he stepped out the stable, but he was met with the bleak sight of fields and nothing else.

He gripped his hair, feeling dull pain either side of his head as he listened to his watch ticking precious seconds away. Naminé wasn't on the farm; Ienzo said she wasn't at home.

Liam took a deep breath, crumbling at that same gateway of two years ago, of failing as a parent. "I don't know what to do," he murmured. "Fuck, baby, I don't know what to do."

**-x-**

"Do you remember when you went to the library in that geography lesson? There was group work. You had to give a presentation on rivers. You've read about the marshlands, Naminé."

Kairi's voice was far off, lost in the rush of water and prickling leaves. "It's going to be okay. Listen, you can't step into the marsh. You need to swim and hold onto something. Don't let your feet rest!"

Naminé cried. She was so tired, the weight of her clothes forcing her underwater. She felt sharp pains to her shins; there was something at her ankles, like the claws of a sea monster dragging her down to the mud. Her eyes were stinging as the salty water seared her face. "Help!"

Her left foot hit the earth and she tried to use it to push herself up. Instead, she sank deeper and once again, the water engulfed her. Naminé forced all of her concentration to free her foot, wriggling it out of its shoe. Her arms flew out in a desperate bid for support and as she broke through the surface again, she felt sunlight on her squeezed eyelids. Her body was pressed against something cold, solid, jagged. Whatever it was, she held onto it so tightly she thought her fingers were going to bleed. "Daddy," she screamed, the entirety of her frame behind those syllables, forcing her lungs to power her voice through the marshlands. "Daddy, help!"

**-x-**

Although Isa couldn't care less about the Goldsmith-Gardiners, it was terribly easy to understand the gravity of their situation when he replaced Naminé with Roxas or Ven. The very thought made him sick to the core, and he wished for nothing more than to find Naminé safe and sound, if only to prove that there was kindness in this world after all.

Lea had steered the Bug onto the winding lanes of the coppices north of the school. Here, the trees were tight knit and there was no sign of life at all – no houses, streetlights or signposts. The desolate marshlands worked in their favour, however, when even the softest of whispers could be heard in such silence. As such, when they all heard the screams, Arlene shrieked, "Stop the car!"

Lea didn't need to be told twice. He veered off the road and slammed hard on the brakes.

Arlene leapt out of the Bug and sped down the bank towards Naminé's screams. By the time Isa had scrambled out of his seat to follow suit, Arlene had thrown her heels aside and was screeching hysterically. As Isa ran, he felt the swift change in terrain from the dirt path to the marshlands. It was uneven, soggy, laden with tumultuous clumps of thick grass. Naminé was a good distance away from steady land, clinging to a large, decaying tree trunk in floods of tears.

"How the hell did she get there?" Lea shouted.

"High tide." Isa ran forwards and grabbed Arlene's elbow. "Wait! Don't go in after her; it's too dangerous."

"You let go of me right now," Arlene screamed. "That's my baby; oh my God, Naminé…!"

Arlene writhed in his grip like a thick snake. His heart broke with every resonant cry from Naminé and Arlene's desperate shrieks to get to her. As he wrestled with her, he caught Lea staring out at Naminé with his hands to his head.

"Lea, the marsh is too dangerous," Isa shouted over Arlene. "We need boards and rope before we can do anything!"

"Then fetch them," Lea replied, "and you can throw them out to Naminé _and_ me."

Isa grabbed him with his other hand, but Lea shook him off. "Tide's coming in, right?" Lea said. "We don't have time to stand here and assess. Arlene, ring Liam and get him to bring the rope. Isa, you eco nut, I need a crash course in how to cross a marsh, _now_."

Arlene fumbled with her phone, and while Isa took it for her to get it dialling to Liam, he stuttered out, "The water's deceptive. The earth isn't secure and you can easily get stuck in the mud. Take your second step before the first one is complete; spread your weight evenly to avoid sinking too much. Swim if you can."

Lea nodded and yanked off his trainers. Isa thought it safe to let go of Arlene while she stammered to Liam. "Lea, be careful. I-it's nearly a new moon so the solunar activity is going to be crazy."

But Lea wasn't listening. He had had his crash course and there was no time for him to understand the risks of venturing into the marshes or understanding how the tide worked. Isa watched with shaky breaths as Lea staggered through the grass, slipping up already and swearing. Going into water at high tide was dangerous enough already, but with the pull of a new moon, the tide was going to come in quicker, earlier. Isa reckoned it'd be at its maximum by seven, and even the muddy earth he stood at right now would most likely be metres under soon. As Lea struggled through the treacherous marsh, Isa gripped Arlene's hand and stopped her from going into the water.

**-x-**

Naminé's fingers were going numb. She was clinging to the rough surface of a dying log, and the water was lapping at her chin. Every breath was fast becoming a struggle, and she knew she had to climb higher and yet, her feet wouldn't listen. Something was pulling her down.

She could hear Mummy screaming from the water's edge as though she was being tortured. Naminé cried out for her, her sobs a pleading apology for yet another failed attempt to make her happy. Then, there was the snapping of reeds and waves struck her face like stones being thrown. She finally felt her feet – they were slipping – and she forced her stinging eyes open, just in time to see the blurred sight of her fingers leaving the log. She was being dragged backwards, something was snared round her waist. Naminé screamed, kicked at the sea monster—

"Naminé!" A voice bellowed over her shrieks. "It's all right; I've got you."

She was being hoisted. Naminé stopped scrabbling for the log and instead, found the sturdy shoulders of Mr Murphy as he lifted her. Naminé was shivering in the cool breeze above water, trembling so much she thought she might fall out of Mr Murphy's arms. He held her, with strength that pushed her to his chest, that made her wince and cry. "It's okay, baby, it's okay now," he said against her. "Can you hear me, baby? It's Lea. I need you to listen to me."

She gripped the material of his vest. She must have gargled something, for Mr Murphy lifted her so she was higher than him and said, "Good girl. Listen, the tide's coming in fast and your daddy's bringing some rope to pull us out. The marsh is too dangerous for us to try and come back on, so we're going to swim out and wait. I need you to keep your head above the water, okay? We're gonna be all right."

**-x-**

The closest experience Lea had that could relate to his current situation was when a debt collecting mission had taken the Turks to a brawl at a York manor house. Reno had been suffering from injuries he got from a previous mission, and his attempts to back Lea up had been laughable. As a result, Lea became the target of five frustrated henchmen, who pummelled him like dough and forced his head into a decorative fountain. In that fight, in those submerged seconds that felt like years, Lea could remember how his lungs felt ready to explode from the emptiness and yet, he could only laugh at the fragility of his body.

The memory unsettled him now – as long as he had been a Turk, he believed there was no value to his life at all. As Lea struggled in the marsh to keep him and Naminé both afloat, his desperation to survive was almost overwhelming, unrecognisable. He had so much to go back to, and Naminé too. They were putting their loved ones through the torture of watching them struggle, and it was imperative that they pull through it alive. Although he spoke comforting words to Naminé, Lea knew it'd only be a matter of time before he'd lose the strength to keep treading water. Naminé was dead weight, stiff and screaming against him and preventing his arms from helping.

Lea could feel the mud beneath him, so he pushed himself out further to avoid being ensnared by it. He hugged Naminé tightly and willed himself to concentrate on her rather than his aching limbs.

"It's okay," he kept saying. "Your daddy's on his way to get you. You want to see your daddy, don't you."

"Mr Murphy," Naminé blubbered, "I'm sorry. I…I was just—"

"You were working on your project," Lea said for her, as she struggled to say any more. "I know, Naminé. You were just trying to make them happy, but an art project doesn't even come close to what truly makes them happy, you know? They're your parents. You haven't disappointed them for even a second, and all that weary stress they have for you isn't because you cause trouble; it's because they love you."

He powered his legs to keep them both afloat. "Come on, Isa…" he uttered.

**-x-**

Isa didn't know how long Lea had spent in the water with Naminé, nor did he know where this strength had even come from, but Liam Gardiner couldn't come soon enough. As his truck stalled at the bank and Liam ran down with rope over his shoulders, the cavalry were in close pursuit. Inspector Leonhart and Mr Lawrence unloaded the boards from Liam's truck and built a route across the marsh, while Ienzo Friday consoled Arlene. As an Allsands supporter, Isa was a little unnerved to be in the company of Liam Gardiner's crew, but only he seemed to see – and consequently ignore – this dividing line. There was no time for the pedantry of politics as Isa grabbed the rough rope and Leonhart threw its end into the water.

Lea's voice was fast being drowned out by the sound of everyone else's shouts. When Leonhart yelled, "Pull!" they all did, shoes squealing against the muddy earth and breaths strained with effort and panic. Liam was at the forefront, so that when a drenched Lea grappled for the first board and staggered across the walk, Naminé fell into her father's arms with an anguished sob.

Isa let go of the rope, and overwhelmed by sheer relief, he sighed and grinned in spite of himself at the Goldsmith-Gardiners. Arlene's flesh coloured stockings had absorbed mud all the way up to her knees, Liam was still ashen and shaking, Naminé could barely be seen under the blankets Leonhart had retrieved from his police car boot.

Lea was covered head to toe in muddy water, his hair stuck to the sides of his face, but Isa didn't care and he hugged him fiercely. This was all he managed, however, until Liam pulled Lea into a back breaking hug. "You saved my girl," he said. "I can't thank you enough; you saved my baby girl."

Lea struggled in his blanket against Liam's strength, and he blew a light raspberry and tried to shrug. "Nah…it was nothing."

It took a long time to console the Goldsmith-Gardiners. Leonhart kept encouraging the family into his car so that he could drive them to hospital; when they finally got in, instead of driving off, Leonhart grabbed Lea's arm.

"You too. You need to be seen to."

"I'm fine," Lea protested. "Seriously, a cigarette's enough to make him right as rain again."

But Isa had to agree with Leonhart – a fact which offended Lea greatly. "Oh, come on," he grumbled. "I don't want to waste my night in a hospital if you're eyeing me up like that." He grinned hopefully. "My place or yours?"

Isa scoffed. "I'm eyeing you up to check for leeches."

" _Leeches_?" Lea scrubbed down his front in a panic. "Ugh, gross!"

"Don't worry, I think you're all right." Isa closed Leonhart's car door and smiled at Lea. "I'll drive the Bug back to your place and visit you tomorrow at the hospital." Lea leaned out the window in a hopeful attempt for a kiss, but Isa walked off. "No way, pondweed," he said with a grin.

**-x-**

Aqua heard all about Lea's bravery in saving Naminé when Isa gave her a quick phone call, and she updated Roxas and Ventus with a well-rehearsed smile. She told them how Lea had crossed the marsh and kept Naminé afloat and away from the treacherous quicksand of the marshlands' bed.  However, Lea's actions didn't seem a heroic enough story for the twins, and as they settled into bed that night, they were still debating whether it would have been more impressive if Lea had wrestled a caiman crocodile or a giant flesh-eating jellyfish.

"Our Lea did good, didn't he," said Aqua, kissing the boys goodnight and lifting Pluto off Ven's bed so she could sit there. She stroked Ven's hair and drew back when she realised her hand was shaking. "But the moral…the moral is never to wander off and always listen to your mum."

She gave a firm nod.

Ven sat up in bed. For a moment, Aqua thought he was going to dispute this, but his next action was far worse. He scooted down, quilts rolling at his waist, and he hugged her. Like a twist of a key, he unlocked all of her defences. She had built a wall round herself, a safeguard that'd keep her battling on; yet, this wall had encircled the twins too. Despite them being the ultimate recipients of her pleasant façade, she had let them in right from the start, desperately clinging to all she had left.

Her boys had been able to see through her all along, and everything they had done – from promoting her shop to dragging her into their silly debates – had been a selfless quest on their part to make her happy. Without even explaining it to them, her sons knew all along she wasn't just waiting for their real father; she was screaming for him, in her sleep, in each paper cut out of Paris, in every one of her prayers. She had been trying for ten years to pierce through Xemnas' darkness, to reach in and save her husband, but nothing had come of it. This unchangeable outcome was surely the only reason Xemnas stayed in the first place.

She sobbed, burying herself in the tiny warmth of her boys. "He's leaving," she whimpered. She thought she was going to be sick. "He's leaving me."


	15. Chapter 15

With years of experience in charming women out their clothes and parting men with their money, Lea barely had to lift a finger to convince the hospital he could leave before the night was up. The nurse confirmed he hadn't come down with any surprise marsh-induced illness, and after subtly giving him his number, she arranged for him to be discharged.

It was nearly midnight, and Lea was on his way out to go round Isa's, when he walked past the hospital reception and heard clicking heels. He turned to see Arlene Goldsmith at the coffee machine, her weight shifting from foot to foot. She pressed the buttons tiredly, and seemed worn, oddly human without the perfect mask of her make up, crisp dress and tidy hair.

Lea dithered for a moment, wondering whether it was best to leave her be. Despite her active role in sullying Lea's reputation and making Xemnas leave Aqua, Arlene had nearly lost her only daughter today. Perhaps the scare – at poor Naminé's expense – had been justice enough. Any contact from Lea now would surely reek of unintentional smugness, so he kept his footsteps quiet and headed for the revolving doors.

"Lea."

Arlene's voice was quiet, but it bounced off the stark walls and rolled into the empty space. There were visible lines across her forehead as she gave him a stiff nod in greeting.

"Arlene." He rubbed the back of his head, walked over to the machine to join her. "Sorry, I didn't see you there," he lied. "Is Naminé all right?" he asked.

Arlene took a few seconds to find an answer. Lea wasn't sure whether she was just finding it difficult to express herself after the events, or if she was actually wonderfully content. "She's sleeping. The doctors said she's going to be okay." She took her cup of coffee and to Lea's surprise, she offered it to him.

"Thanks," said Lea. He gave a none-too-subtle glance to the exit doors, and while Arlene knew she was keeping him, she had no intention of letting him leave just yet.

"I want to say thank you for saving Naminé," she muttered, apparently disliking the taste of humble pie. She regained her composure surprisingly quickly. "But that's all I have to say. I should apologise for what I've put you through, but it'd be insincere." She smiled grimly, waiting perhaps for Lea to start a fight with her.

Lea leaned against the machine. "No, well you're a blunt and callous woman, and you mean everything you do. It'd uncharacteristic of you to backpedal. It's all right."

Arlene looked up from her coffee, her lips thin. "I've made life very difficult for you in Silverkey. You're saying you have no resentment for that?"

"You exposed my criminal history," said Lea, "but the important people have accepted me for it and that's all that matters. I can forgive you at least; the Allsands family might not."

Arlene smiled, but there was little heart in it. "I don't have any use for Isa's trigger," she murmured. "I deleted the message as soon as I sent it and I've long forgotten the prompt. Perhaps it's little to offer, but I can promise the trigger won't ever escape from me."

"Well, you might not think it's much but it'd be some good news at last for Aqua. I don't suppose we'll ever find out why you trampled and destroyed her family all for the sake of complete conviction you'd win the vote, but I appreciate everyone has reasons." Lea straightened his shirt and gestured to his empty cup. "Thanks for the coffee."

He turned to leave, but Arlene grabbed his arm. Her long nails dug through his sleeve. "Ansem White," she said.

Lea blinked. "Who?"

"Ansem White," she said again. "He's a renowned professor of psychotherapy. He's not the kind to have any old patient; his schedule's so busy he can only fit the most prestigious of customers. He wouldn't listen to a farmer and his wife, but he would the town Mayor."

Lea furrowed his eyebrows. "Psychotherapy?" he repeated.

Arlene gripped her coffee cup so tight she bent it out of shape. "I lied to you all when I said that Naminé never wanders off. What I should have said was that Naminé doesn't wander off _any more_." She rubbed the side of her head, tucking some stray hair behind her ear. "She did once, two years ago."

Lea had the distinct feeling that Arlene hadn't spoken to anyone like this before. It was a gross violation of her carefully construction persona of ice and candour. She was tiny, engulfed by his shadow. Lea wondered if this justification was for his or her benefit.

"I had a miscarriage," said Arlene. Her hand made the slightest adjustment to rest over her stomach. "I was working on the farm, I miscarried and…well, I was preoccupied with that. Naminé wandered off. She was only five and I suppose she was trying to find something to make me better, but she ended up at the slaughterhouse on our farm. I had accidentally left the door open. Of all doors."

Lea took Arlene's coffee cup for her before she dropped it. "Shit," he breathed.

"I lost two babies that day," Arlene said with a thin, hateful smile. "Naminé wasn't the same after that. I mean, her best friends were in a barn, not in playgroup, and now she knew her mother killed them for a living. A-anyway," said Arlene, heaving a deep breath. "Naminé needs help. She has an imaginary friend, this…this voice in her head. I don't know – it's what Naminé runs to now. She's got classmates who bully her and obviously I haven't helped at all. There's so little keeping her here, not when she's crafted her fantasies so well." Arlene took her cup back and threw it into the pedal bin. "So there you have it. That's why I did everything. It's all for Naminé." She gave a firm nod, as though this was a loose end tied up. "The crazy thing is after all that, my mother still says no one could be a more of a failed parent than me."

Arlene hoisted her handbag over her shoulder and began to walk away. It was a sudden move, that caught Lea by surprise. Quickly, he called after her, "You know what I think?"

"I don't care what you think," Arlene returned, but her shoulders relaxed as Lea grinned and continued anyway.

"I think your mum talks bull."

**-x-**

Aqua watched the night go by from the rippled square of their porch window, curled up on the floor with Pluto in her arms. She was tired, emotionally destroyed, but the night went on and she watched it slip by. She waited in the dark, fingers turning her wedding ring left and right, like a slow pendulum losing power.

At five to four, she heard Xemnas' alarm go off. For twenty minutes, she listened to the subtle movement of him showering and changing. When she saw his silhouette on the landing, she stood up with a deep breath.

"Really?" Xemnas murmured as he set his suitcase down and opened the cupboard for his shoes. "You needn't have stayed up; I would have woken you."

Aqua didn't fall for his feigned civility. "Can we talk?"

"About?"

"A-about Terra." She clasped the front of her top, channelling all her nerves into that single, forceful grip. In the dark, she could make out Xemnas' thin, amused smile.

"I don't think there is much to talk about," he said. He sat on the stairs and began to do up his laces. "Terra is gone."

"I don't believe that."

"Yes, you've told me many times," said Xemnas. He glanced up, and although Aqua towered over him in his crouched position, she couldn't feel more afraid. "You believe he's still here, and I am suppressing him. No matter how many times I tell you that Terra simply lost the will to live, you won't believe me. You insist he's buried in me, fighting. Your loyalty to Terra is admirable but ultimately, it's fruitless."

He stood up and shrugged his shoulders to rest more comfortably in his blazer. "You're going to let me through," he said.

Aqua shivered in the doorway. "Let me speak to him."

"Have you not been listening?" Xemnas tried to sidestep her but she moved, bumping into him. "There is no Terra to speak to. It has been ten years. To anticipate him to resurface after such time is an absurd – and undeniably cruel – expectation."

He reached for the porch's door handle, but Aqua scrabbled for it first. She winced and bit down a moan as Xemnas' hand settled on her wrist in a painful grip. "Ten years," she repeated in a stammer. "You're right. I would have given up after so long if I knew he was gone. But he isn't, I know it!"

Xemnas scoffed, a light exhale that seared her face with fear. "You act from desperation, not knowledge."

"A-and you act to hide him. I know why you've stayed with us. You say it's from gratitude to Eraqus, but really it's just another addition to your collection of power. You've been goading Terra, constantly keeping him at arm's length while you punish his family. You enjoy making me suffer for the mistake I made in marrying Terra, disregarding you as just a personality..." She flinched as Xemnas' hand clenched harder. "I've deserved it; I know I have. But please…let me talk to him. I know he's in there."

"You 'know'?" Xemnas repeated. He brought his face close to hers, daring her to break the stillness between them with a whisper. "Don't you mean you _feel_ he's here? Isn't that all you do, you silly woman? Wallow in petty emotions and feelings, as if they're relevant, as if they could ever be of consequence?"

She fought out of his grip, but all Xemnas did was retaliate and press his palm at her neck instead. He had long lost interest in leaving the house. His desire for power had been drawn away from escaping Silverkey and had manifested in the form of a terrifying shadow at night. "I…I got the idea from Saix," she breathed. "When she switches out it's nearly always when she's asleep. The wall between the personalities…its weakest point is during unconsciousness; it's when the original self can emerge. Terra reaches out for me when you s-sleep—" She felt her breath go. Xemnas' weight crushed against her throat and she staggered, back slamming against the door. "Please," she wheezed. "You're…hurting me—"

"It's a terrible shame that Terra doesn't emerge at the most crucial of moments," Xemnas remarked. "You believe he's been fighting me for ten years? The gibbering sap wouldn't even be able to contest a paper bag." More force against her throat. "Where is Terra?" he said. Without warning, he freed her neck and then struck her across the face. Aqua gasped and stumbled backwards. The array of photo frames rattled on impact.

"Where is Terra, for example, when I do this?" Xemnas snatched a clump of her hair and her neck twisted in unbearable pain. She caught a flash in his eyes, and then all of her senses dulled in time with a colossal thud. Xemnas slammed her head against the decorative mirror.

She caught her scream, muffled it in sweating, shaking palms, and she fell. She curled up on the floor, willing herself to keep any acknowledgment of pain to a minimum, to deprive Xemnas of the satisfaction, to keep her boys fast asleep upstairs. The clicks of Pluto's nails echoed on the herringbone; he was panting at the glass. Through the gap in her arms, she saw the shards. She hadn't heard them fall. They blinked from the movement above her.

"He isn't here to save you; isn't that proof enough of his absence? Of his weakness?"

 _Just don't hurt the boys_ , she thought she said, but it was difficult to tell. She had pushed the base of her hand to her mouth to smother her cries. Aqua crawled along the floor by her elbows in a bid to escape the weight crushing her body. _He's going to kill me_ , she realised, as the agony now honed in on her throat again. She felt her breath being squeezed out of her lungs. _He's going to kill me and make Terra take the blame. What better thrill of power is there than that?_

"Let go," she tried to shout, but all that came out was a whimper. Aqua struggled, but her hands had been made to cut patterns, not to fight off the mighty grip clamped round her throat. Then, just as Aqua was certain she had breathed her last, he let go.

She curled up in her arms. Her legs were still trapped beneath Xemnas' weight. She was being spattered with something warm, drops of copper that stung in her mouth.

_Stabbed. I'm being stabbed._

She gasped for air, writhing in Xemnas' shadow. Aqua could smell the blood now. It was a terrible stench that made her gag, but it was unaccompanied by pain. Her head throbbed, but nowhere on her body did it feel like she was being slashed. She rolled over as much as she could, and she cowered at the sight of Xemnas above her, a long shard of the mirror in his hand.

His arms were drenched in blood, and he had forgotten about her.

Aqua clung to the sides of her head, sobbing. Xemnas brought the shard down again and again to his forearms. He grunted with each hit, inhaling through his teeth.

"What are you doing?" Aqua tried to whisper. He was a dull blur in her vision as she succumbed to the pain in her head. She reached out for him as the weight lifted and he staggered to his feet.

Aqua collapsed, and right before she passed out, behind the desperate barks of Pluto, she heard the front door open, and someone started to sob.

**-x-**

As the advocate for Silverkey's dead, Dilan was the king of all things ghostly and supernatural, with a pale, stern face and fantastical hairstyle to match. He and his daughter, Xion, were a no-nonsense duo who talked about fatal diseases at dinner and thought Halloween services in memory of the deceased were far more important than getting good grades. Xion's exposure to the business of death had made her the perfect companion for his austere and honest outlook on life, and together they toed the gap between the alive and the dead. For someone who saw decaying bodies on a daily basis, it took an awful lot to unnerve Dilan Haugen the grave keeper.

He would have been lying, however, if he said the sight of a stumbling and blood-soaked Xemnas didn't make him nearly shit himself.

Dilan was so in tandem with his cemetery that he sat up straight at half four in the morning, on hearing the squeaking hinges and clinking latch of the main gates. Dilan never locked these gates in acknowledgement of the little attention the cemetery received by day, let alone at night. Still, he hadn't been hearing things and sure enough, when he stood at his bedroom window that overlooked the grounds, he saw Xemnas.

Dilan watched as Xemnas staggered down the rows of headstones, drunk or injured or both. The streetlamps dotted outside the stone wall caught the right side of Xemnas, to show a white shirt slashed and drenched in blood.

 Dilan's stomach lurched; his breath – for the first time in years – hitched in his throat. "Please don't tell me you've just murdered Aqua," he whispered. He felt around in the dark for his phone, swearing to himself as he fought it out of its charging cable. He dialled Aqua's number and while it rang, he tried to see a pattern in Xemnas' movement. He appeared to be looking for something.

Aqua didn't answer; Dilan swore and tried again.

Xemnas filtered through the gravestones and sank down at one littered with fresh flowers. Dilan licked his lips nervously.

" _Hello, you've reached Aqua's voicemail! I'm currently—_ "

"Come on," Dilan uttered. He tried the landline next. Xemnas curled up against the stone, hands tearing at his hair, shoulders heaving up and down, and if it had been anyone but Xemnas, Dilan would have believed he was grieving.

" _Hello, you've reached the Allsands_!"

"Shit!" Dilan glanced at his phone, gripping the side of his head. He forced himself to calm down. With a shaking finger, he scrolled through his address book for the next best option.

**-x-**

Isa slept through the first batch of calls. It was only when the vibration eventually made his phone fall off his bedside table with a clatter, that he stirred and sat up on his elbows in a daze.

Lea was sprawled across his chest. There was such little room for them both on Isa's single bed, that their compromise had been to let one sleep on the other. Somehow, over the course of the night, this had alternated.

Still struggling to open his eyes, Isa grabbed his phone. "Hello?"

He was met with the sound of crying. "I-Isa…"

Isa pushed Lea off him and sat up fully. "Roxas? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Roxas sobbed. Isa had never heard him so distressed. "Isa, you need to come over. It's Mum. She won't wake up. I've t-tried everything but she won't wake."

Isa's blood ran cold. He swung his legs out of bed and scrabbled for his clothes. Across the room, Lea had stirred and was sitting up on his elbows in a daze. "Calm down, Roxas, and listen to me. Is she breathing?"

"I-I don't know…"

"Is she hurt?"

"H-her neck is red. I think there's…there's a bump on her head."

"Roxas, you need to make sure she has a clear airway, okay? I'm going to talk you through it; I'm on my way over now." He lifted his shoulder to keep his phone in place as he got changed. Lea was now cross legged in bed; he was on the phone too, suddenly wide awake. "Roll her towards you, onto her side. Is she breathing? Hold on, Rox, I'm just going to talk to Lea. Don't hang up."

Lea was doing up his trousers and fumbling for his car keys. "Dilan just tried to call you. Says Xemnas is at the cemetery, apparently covered in blood. He couldn't get an answer from Aqua."

"She's hurt," said Isa. He was shaking so much, he nearly dropped his phone. Together, they hurried out of his flat and ran down the stairwell to the street. "Roxas, you still there?"

"Y-yes," Roxas cried. "She's on her side. She's breathing."

Isa sighed with relief. "Well done. Tilt her head back a little so her airway's clear. I'm coming over now, okay? Get a blanket; keep your mum warm."

He hung up and unlocked his car. Lea yanked open the door to his Beetle. "Let me know about Aqua," he said. "I'm going to get Xemnas."

Isa nodded and ducked into his convertible, heart hammering against his ribcage. He was still fighting his exhaustion from the lack of sleep. "Hang on, Aqua," he murmured, pulling out into the road.

**-x-**

Lea had only ever passed Silverkey Cemetery on his morning jogs; he had never set foot in the place, and for good reason. It was crafted by a person who clearly wanted to make it look as freakish as possible, with off-centre tombstones, gnarled trees and a moss-covered church in the north-western corner. Lea wasn't easily spooked, but he preferred to believe his anxiety was from this rather than his increasingly panicked thoughts of Aqua.

It was easy to spot Xemnas; if not for the dimly lit second aisle of graves, Lea would have found him through the sound of his panting alone. He looked a state, his white shirt destroyed from the elbows down – shredded material, the dark stain of blood. One hand was gripping a large clump of hair; he had been pulling so forcefully that a fair amount of strands had stuck to the front of his shirt. Lea's heart thundered in his head. Just the thought of Aqua being hurt, of that being her blood on Xemnas' hands, made him want to seize the man and punch him senseless.

However, something strange caught his eye. In Xemnas' other hand was a glass shard, glinting in the orange glow of the streetlight. Lea glanced from the sliver of glass to the tears in Xemnas' shirt and saw numerous slashes across his forearms. His injuries were most likely self-inflicted, and if Lea didn't act quickly, Xemnas was going to bleed to death.

Xemnas was still panting, his face stuck in a permanent expression – not of guilt, Lea discerned, but unadulterated horror. Lea had spent enough time around Isa and Saix to spot the nuances of their respective personalities, the way Saix looked up in thought, for example, and Isa looked down. Even in the same shell, their individuality broke through. As Xemnas shivered before him, Lea knew that this shell too, had gone from a man who felt nothing, to one who felt absolutely everything.

"Hey," Lea murmured. He sat on his haunches, not too close to be alarming, not too far to go unheard. "It's all right; I'm here to help. My name's Lea. It's…It's Terra, isn't it?"

Terra made no sign he had heard. He seemed to be in a horrified daze. It was strange to see Xemnas' harsh face rearranged into something so heart breaking, so young. Or perhaps, Lea thought guiltily, he just hadn't seen it at all. The eyes were still the same, still a fantastic, lonely blue, and Lea had never taken a chance to see beyond the mask of Xemnas, at the boy trapped behind.

"You've done yourself pretty good there." Lea nodded to the bleeding arms, but Terra barely gave the trickling blood a second of attention before staring down at the empty space in front of him. "…How about you give me that shard?"

Lea was asking the wrong things. After ten years of having his body hijacked, Terra had broken through and he was panicking. His sharp, shallow breaths were not a sign of exhaustion but intense pressure, as though he had been drowning for ten years and was now struggling to function on the surface. Lea had to tread carefully; he had the feeling one wrong word could send Terra over the edge.

Terra gripped the shard tighter. "Did he kill her?" Terra's voice was brittle, wobbling as though expecting reprimand; Xemnas, with his stentorian drone, would never have let his voice adopt such weakness.

Lea withdrew his hand, heart thumping against his ribcage. He had the feeling that shard of glass was going to do a lot more than slash arms if Aqua was dead. "Isa's gone to check on Aqua. He'll let us know soon."

Terra slumped, the side of his head resting against the cold headstone of the grave, and it was only then that it occurred to Lea to check the inscription. His stomach twisted as he read _Eraqus Liang_. Terra had staggered all the way here to the person who had first saved him.

"Here, look." Lea dug into his pocket and held out his phone. He rested it on the border of Eraqus' ledger stone. "Let's wait for Isa to call, okay? He'll tell us if Aqua is all right."

Lea wasn't sure if they waited two minutes or an eternity. He rummaged in the back of his mind for everything he had ever been told about Terra, in a bid to talk to him, to coerce him into allowing the wounds to be stemmed at least, but the silence seemed to treat him better. His grip round the shard loosened, and his panicked breaths eased. When Lea's phone went off, it was only a blinking light and vibration; Terra, however, screwed up his face as though it was a blaring siren and he wept before Lea could even speak.

"Hey, Is'."

"She's all right," Isa said straight away. "She's got a nasty hit on her head though, so she's on her way to hospital."

"Thanks. Call an ambulance to the cemetery too." He hung up without waiting for confirmation. "Aqua's okay, Terra."

This bit of news sparked the most life in Terra he had seen yet. He took a shuddering breath through his nose and tried to wipe away the smears of blood from his face. He ended up adding more. "Now that we know she's okay, I need you to be the same. Can I…?" Lea gestured to Terra's arms. To Lea's great relief, Terra gave a stiff nod and the shard clattered onto the ledger stone. Lea placed the shard aside and walked round to sit next to Terra; his leg knocked against a small vase at the adjacent grave. He steadied it with a quick reflex of his hand. "Shit…sorry about that uh, Mr Skellington," he read off the headstone. "Sheesh, what a name," he added.

Terra had become still. His breaths continued to be shallow but he had a degree of control over them. It seemed his concentration had now moved to Lea, and he studied him as though he couldn't believe he had company. Lea shrugged out of his shirt and tore it up into makeshift bandages. "They must sting," he remarked as he worked. "Thankfully, they're mostly going the wrong way. Or right way, I mean, if your aim is to _not_ bleed to death. Did Xemnas do this to you?"

Terra shook his head.

"You did it to Xemnas," Lea realised.

Terra winced as Lea applied pressure to his biggest wound. "He tried to kill Aqua."

"He crossed the line," said Lea, but he had finally said the wrong thing.

Terra convulsed, and his hands buried themselves in his hair. "No, no, n-no."

Xemnas had crossed the line the minute he had refused to give Terra his body back. Aqua's life in danger had been the final push, but to source it as the only way for Terra to fight back was equivalent to saying he had sat back and done nothing for the last ten years. It was an insult to him.

"I've been fighting, I promise I have." Terra wept, his shoulders heaving. "I've been fighting for ten years, but I couldn't beat him. He was just…he just held me down. In W-Wales, he used to let me out."

"Wales?" Lea felt winded as he recalled Saix once telling him about Xemnas' annual trips alone. Was it all for the sake of a sick laugh?

"He wouldn't let me near my family. Only in Wales. There were cliffs. I tried to jump. E-every year, but he stopped me each time. He showed exits – wouldn't let me take them."

Lea kept a firm hold of Terra's arms, primarily to stop him from upsetting his wounds, but also to stem his own sadness. Terra had been routinely driven to the brink of insanity, in a horrifically calculated exercise of cruelty even the Turks would have struggled to beat.

"Fuck." It was all Lea could say. "God knows what you've been through, how much advantage he had over you in the first place. What matters is that you're here now; you're safe now."

"But why did it take me ten _years_?" Terra shook his head, his hands opening to show scarlet palms. "And all just to go back to the beginning, t-to come back to this? I don't know what to do. I reversed everything. I don't know what to do. I broke," he stammered. "I can remember the house. Oh my God…I can remember the house. I…I've broke."

"House? What house?" Lea said without thinking. Terra flinched and looked as though he was going to be sick. Lea straightened as though he had been hit. "…Terra, where's Xemnas?"

"Gone," he replied hoarsely.

Lea stared at him. "Completely?" Terra nodded. "You…you broke the wall?" Lea murmured. "You broke it completely? Th-the house…you have all of your memories?"

Terra's fingers buried themselves in his hair, and Lea swore something in him shattered at the sight. He could only imagine what was going on in that head, the confused and terrified mind of someone who had sacrificed his stability if it meant finishing the evil in him. Terra began to pant, at the weight of trauma, and Lea was helpless to alleviate the burden.

"Is that why you came to Eraqus? You think he's the only one who can help you?"

"I broke," Terra said again. "I'm finished, I'm pathetic, I don't stand a chance—"

Lea had the distinct feeling Terra was just repeating what he had been cruelly told for the last decade. As the darkened street outside began to glow with the flashing blue light of the ambulance, Lea reached out and smiled at him. "Everyone gets a chance," he said. "Trust me, I know. Everyone can be helped."

"Not me," Terra muttered.

"Especially you." Lea got to his feet and with gentle coercion, he convinced Terra to stand up. "You've got a whole family waiting for you. Let us help."

"You can't help me." Terra was quick to reply, but his voice hitched with hesitance, hope even. Lea grinned at him.

"I saved a little girl from drowning just yesterday; I think I'm on a roll."


	16. Chapter 16

_What is a face, really? Its own photo? Its make-up? Or is it a face as painted by such or such painter? That which is in front? Inside? Behind? And the rest? Doesn't everyone look at himself in his own particular way? Deformations simply do not exist._

_— Pablo Picasso_

**-x-**

Elopement had always been on the cards for Aqua. Considering Terra fell to pieces when he was with more than two people, a congregation with confetti and cameras and all eyes on them was out of the question. Terra stressed himself out with the guilt of denying her a traditional wedding, and Aqua had to reiterate – over and over again, on some of the worst nights – that she wasn't being robbed of anything at all.

Aqua made her dress for the occasion – a ruched, tea-length periwinkle dress – and sewed him a cravat to match. They left in the middle of the night in a taxi, so that when they arrived at the outskirts of Salisbury, their vows were born with sunrise.

Aqua loved the freedom of that car journey. They watched the countryside roll by in a spidery rush of bare trees and empty fields. She wound down the window and sat back as the bitter wind burned Terra's cheeks red and knocked her fascinator out of place. By the time they arrived at their wedding location – a cobbled street parallel to a stream in Aqua's hometown, where they had first met – they were both freezing cold, and Aqua was even getting sleet in her shoes.

Terra fluffed his vows, so Aqua deliberately did the same. They hadn't slept for hours, but after their ceremony they took a bus to Salisbury and by midday, they had spontaneously joined a tour group to Stonehenge. Aqua could still remember now how her legs had ached in shoes that pinched, and Terra had lifted her onto his back and simply carried her.

They checked in at a country inn, where they freshened up and caught some rest in a tangle of limbs and silk sheets. Their body clocks fell out of sync with the rest of the world, and when Aqua was wide awake at dusk, Terra sat opposite her, his fingers lost in the hem of her bridal petticoat. He asked, with the tone of someone who had been rehearsing to the point of madness, if they should seal their marriage the way everyone else did.

Terra wasn't a virgin, by any means, but this was the first time sex had any relevance, any care. Terra was emotionally destroyed, maybe even beyond repair, but he disregarded his anxieties for her. Having already denied her a proper wedding, he asked if he could, at least, give her the opportunity to make love.

Aqua was easily swallowed by the broad shadow of his shoulders, comfortable and reassured under the weight of his body. At first, she felt she was being ripped apart, but she wasn't breaking at all, she was fusing, twisting into something whole beneath the sky of constellations on his freckled shoulders.

Before check out, they sat on the bed in just bath robes. Terra's wet hair stuck to the sides of his face and when Aqua lifted up their hoods and created a warm cocoon for their kisses, Terra bit his lip, and he stretched across her for the floor, rifling through his long-discarded hire suit. From it, he took a palm sized postcard.

A little cat, white against the black night of Parisian streets and her skyline – the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, the smiling gibbous moon. Terra had used her scissors, and he had tried cutting paper himself. His attempt was shaky; there were imperfect cuts that broke the silhouettes. She listened with fingers over her lips as Terra told her he was sorry, first for his substandard skill, and then for only getting her this close to Paris.

But Aqua had found something sturdier – strong, immovable earth and free flowing sand – and in its dusty wake, all Paris was was the flyaway form it first came to life with – paper.

-x-

Silverkey's town hall received zero attendance from both Mayoral Candidates on the day of the vote. There were clusters of people with pink rosettes, others with sea-green badges. Without the leading campaigners to show them what they were there for, however, they all looked a bit silly.

Dilan Haugen, for one, yanked off his badge and put it in his pocket. It wasn't too much a stretch of his imagination to assume most attendees had come along for the food. _Gongaga's_ stand, in particular, was heavy with eager children (who had been given the day off school to celebrate the new Mayor) and poor Mr Fair Senior looked ready to have a stroke at the speed with which he was having to dish up his cakes.

"Can I buy one?" Xion asked him.

"Only if you get me one too." Dilan rooted around his pockets for some loose change, and Xion scampered off to the stall. He crossed his arms and watched the solemn corner of the ballot boxes, where Lieutenant Hewley was surveying the process with two of his Chief Inspectors. Dilan recalled the Chief Inspectors had complicated names he had never bothered to learn. One of them had long silver hair, the other chestnut brown, and the general consensus in Silverkey was the pair were professional male models who had been paid to stand around rather than any kind of respectable policemen. Hewley was smoking a cigarette and so far, no one had been brave enough to call him out on it.

The centre of the hall had been plagued with an impressive number of Gardiner supporters. Ludor Lawrence was catching the eye of some parents, as he was behaving suspiciously like a man who had been very liberal with his whiskey the night before. It seemed to be Ienzo Friday's job to be embarrassed on his employer's behalf, and when Ludor began to slur a senseless anecdote about his Cambridge years and got too close to Aeleus Mason, it took every ounce of Ienzo's strength to steer him away.

"Here." Xion held out a paper plate with a chocolate éclair. "And this is the change."

"Keep it," said Dilan, who preferred to eat the cream puff than mess around with his pockets. Xion sat next to him, the green badge still pinned to the collar of her dress. She supported Xemnas' campaign by principle; he was her best friends' dad, and a best friend overlooked the fact said dad was an insane almost-murderer and wore the badge with pride.

"Do you think Roxas and Ven are all right?"

"They'll be fine," said Dilan. Of course, there was bound to be some emotional damage from learning their mother had been attacked by their father. Dilan knew – better than the majority of Silverkey, unfortunately – to stay out of it, though. The Allsands family was complex, and as tempting as it was to gossip and theorise, it never brought anything good. Dilan had learned that through the gross misinterpretation of Lea Murphy.

"No show from the entire Allsands family," remarked Aeleus Mason. He was most likely fishing for information on behalf of the Goldsmith-Gardiners, but Dilan didn't bite. He wasn't stupid enough to fob Aeleus off completely, so he replied, "I believe they had some pressing family matters."

"Shame really," Aeleus said. "Those boys probably would have enjoyed the mini fair set up outside. Still, what do I know. The whole thing reeks of hypocrisy, doesn't it. Campaigns, fliers, the whole town at each other's throats. In the meantime, one little girl nearly died last night. Now we're crammed in the hall and pretending we never had anything to do with the sad state of affairs."

"You can't blame the town," Dilan said stubbornly. "As individuals, we're at full liberty to decide what we contribute to Silverkey. If you ask me, it's better to mind one's own business and stop aiming for a political game when there isn't one."

Aeleus made a noise through his nose, his thick neck pushing against the tight collar of his shirt. "That's how this town thrives, Mr Haugen."

"Really," Dilan returned. "I actually think we've come away with a lesson learned. Life is short, Mr Mason. You can take that from someone who buries bodies for a living. Life is short, and a Mayoral election is so, _so_ inconsequential in the grand scheme of things."

"Hear, hear." Aeleus gave a thin smile, and he lifted his glass to clink Dilan's. "Cheers."

**-x-**

There was apparently a mini fair at the Mayoral vote and announcement, with cakes from _Gongaga's_ and house beer from _Seventh Heaven_. When Liam Gardiner finally showed up and was announced as the new Mayor of Silverkey, he gave a lengthy speech (punctuated by hiccups from Ludor Lawrence) and cited Naminé for his determination, and Lea for her continued existence. Liam had raised a glass to him, and with very little hesitance, the town hall followed suit.

Lea hadn't gone to the vote or announcement at all, and he only found this out from Isa, who in turn had heard it from Dilan. It was perhaps a rare turn of Silverkey gossip that made its final recipient warm and reeling inside, and it had been a shame to miss it. However, Lea wouldn't have changed his day at all.

"Come on, Ven; I told you to set the table, not to behave like a barnacle." Isa set down a hot dish of macaroni cheese and crossed his arms (as much as someone wearing oven gloves could). Ven was following Lea around and hugging him whenever they were still. The twins were quite subdued after seeing their mum unconscious in the hallway. Although they had been contacted by the hospital and informed both she and Terra were going to be okay, there was a definite sombre feel to the house without her, and Lea could feel it too.

There were dozens of reminders of Aqua dotted around the house, from the fresh flowers she had put in the dining room to the half-finished paper crafts in her study. That morning, he and Isa had carefully swept up the shattered mirror and put it outside to be binned. Then, while Isa drove Pluto to the vets to get his pads checked for any glass, Lea played video games with the twins and tried to keep their day light. Of course, Aqua and Terra kept coming back in conversation, in Roxas' attempts to make sense of the family. Isa too, had reservations.

"You're certain it was him?" he asked at dinner, not for the first time.

"I'm certain," Lea repeated. "Xemnas had to have been a brilliant actor to have pulled Terra off, and as you know, he weren't exactly someone who had that kind of depth."

"He _wasn't_ ," Roxas corrected. "So Dad's…Dad's going to be different then when he comes out the hospital?"

"He'll be different," said Isa, "but in a good kind of way. Grandpa Eraqus' work didn't help your dad, and he's been fighting this…this evil…"

"Wanker," Lea offered.

"Alter ego," Isa said tersely, "for the last ten years. Maybe your mum will explain it better, but you two have to be patient and considerate towards them both. It's a confusing situation, but we'll pull through."

Ven wrinkled his nose as he took a big mouthful of macaroni. Lea too, thought the dish was a bit too salty, but he didn't dare criticise Isa.

"So…what are you in our family, Lea?" asked Ven. "Like, can you be my brother too? Will you live with Isa?"

Lea sat back and rubbed the back of his head. "I…I guess it all depends on how Isa and I do from now on. All going well, we could move in together and I could very well be your brother. I'd…" He grinned into his plate, suddenly overcome with contentment; it was such an unfamiliar sensation that he wondered how he managed to finish his sentence. "I'd very much like to be someone's brother again." He gave a firm nod and nudged Isa's elbow. "Or would I be a brother-in-law? I don't know."

Isa reacted a second too late. He gave a quick shrug and threw his hands up. "Didn't you get the memo about this family being complicated?"

They finished their dinner and paid forced compliments to Isa's cooking (although Roxas' was rather backhanded to begin with, as he asked for Lea to cook next time). "All right, you two," said Isa. "Why don't you sign and seal those get well soon cards for your parents and Naminé while we do the washing up. After that, pack your schoolbags because we have to leave early tomorrow."

Lea fed Pluto his dinner and watched, a little amused, as Isa kept passing him glances as he scrubbed the dishes. Lea was getting pretty good at reading Isa's mannerisms, and could tell that he was bursting to talk. Lea didn't really understand why Isa didn't just come out and say it (he assumed it was a pride thing), so he prompted him by leaning against the sink and touching his forearm.

Isa squeezed the sponge and threw it at the sink tidy. "Seriously? You think we could really…?" he said, expecting Lea to follow his train of thought as usual.

"Could we really what?"

Isa flushed. "You know, move in together."

Lea watched him bristle with indignation. "Too early?"

" _Way_ too early!" Isa retrieved the sponge and began to take out his frustrations on a plate. "What were you thinking, saying something like that to the twins? Now they're going to be harassing us about it! That offhand suggestion is _exactly_ how Ven got Pluto, I'll have you know."

"Yeah, but remember the start, the very beginning?" Lea argued. "You said you were only up to this if we were serious. Right? This is me being serious; this is me planning ahead. I'm in for the long haul, if you are."

Isa frowned into the soapy bubbles, twisting his lips. His anger simmered a fraction to allow Lea to kiss the side of his neck. "Of course I'm in. I just...I guess I'm still reeling from the fact you even think it's possible." His face grew redder, although it was debatable whether it was homage to his anger or embarrassment. "…I mean, would you really live with someone like me? I've got a split personality, and I have…you know, habits."

Lea ran his fingers through Isa's hair thoughtfully. "Me too. I roll around a lot in bed and I also use up all the hot water in the morning. We work around the kinks. What's your point?"

The bubbles became still. Isa stiffened, like a squirrel who had been spotted and was waiting for the right time to dart out of sight. His words came full circle, searing the core of his insecurity. "The point is, I'm a freak."

Almost immediately, Lea's hands slid to cup his face. "You aren't a freak," he said.

And Isa broke, first at the eyes, which blinked rapidly, and then at the trembling mouth. He threw the sponge again – this time, it splashed in the tub and sloshed water on Isa's shirt – and he turned and hugged him. His wet arms stuck to the back of Lea's vest, fingers burying themselves into his hair. Isa took a deep breath, taking comfort in the smell of smoke, and he muttered something unintelligible. It could have been dissent.

"You aren't a freak," Lea murmured again, and he smiled by Isa's ear, his hands sliding up and down his waist. "You're just an insufferable tree hugger, that's all."

"What? You obnoxious—!" Isa wrenched himself off Lea in horror, as though he had been sharing a loving embrace with his great grandmother the whole time. "I am _not_ a tree hugger, you…you…!"

"Git? Fucking twat?"

"Bully," Isa managed. He tried to break out of Lea's hug, but it was rather like watching an irate rhino squeezing out of a manhole. "Let go of me; I'm not talking to you after that, ruining a very establishing moment i-in our relationship—"

"I know, I know." Lea planted a kiss on Isa's lips and like a clockwork toy knocking off a corner, Isa changed direction and returned his affections. "Everything I do is such a crime."

Isa staggered backwards, pinned against the washing machine as Lea continued to kiss away any self-doubt Isa had. Then, there was an audible snap, and Isa screeched.

" _No_! Don't you dare!" He shoved Lea away and tore out the kitchen, and Lea just about saw Ven fleeing up the stairs in a fit of giggles. Just as Lea put two and two together, Roxas leaned on the doorframe and explained casually, "You know how Isa is _Monochrome Chât_ 's web designer? Well, he learnt a lot of that stuff from Ven. Trust me, he can do plenty damage with a single photo."

Lea glanced up at the ceiling, at the sound of Ven shrieking and Isa – somehow reaching a higher pitch than a nine-year-old boy – hollering, "Ventus Allsands, you delete that picture now or I swear I will tell your mum and she'll…she'll send Pluto away! To a kennel, where he'll be forced to eat pig food for the rest of his life…!"

"At least it isn't macaroni cheese," Ven shouted back. "It tasted like sick."

Roxas knelt down to pet the spaniel and he glanced up at Lea. "Want me to stop Ven?"

"And let Isa off easy? Nah." Lea headed back to the sink. "Come on, why don't we finish washing up and then we can take Pluto for his evening walk."

He dipped his hands in the lukewarm water, watched the blur of his wrist tattoo ripple – if only for now – out of sight.

**-x-**

The corridor of Burntcrest Hospital reminded her of paper, of patterns that tessellated and stretched over and over again without destination or end. Aqua was walking out of her nightmare. She followed the grey tiles, the potted plants lined up like soldiers, the bobbing clipboard, the swirling white coat. _Ptt, ptt_ , went her bare feet, in time to the click of the nurse's heels.

When the door opened, the moon jumped off the glossy nameplate and spilled across the floor. An empty room so full, striped in silver from the shivering blinds.

"I'll give you a minute," said the nurse, although her eyes promised the night.

Aqua felt the cold crawl up her legs. She breathed in, out, through trembling lips, sounds breaking enough to rouse him from sleep. He was stiff, unfamiliar with existence. She knew it was him – because only he looked at her like that – but she waited in the open space. She licked her lips, touched the gauze on the side of her face. "Tell me about Paris?"

He blinked, tears rolling freely, but his voice was level, calm. "Its streets light up at night. Curled gas lamps. There's singing." He held out a hand. "The buildings shine in the rain."

She thought she might break from the heaviness in her heart leaving her, a swift and rapid force that pulled her out the darkness and into the light. She stumbled, the room closing in, the distance ceasing to exist. Her feet lifted, his arms spread, and she clambered into the bed, sobbing. She didn't think she could stop.

Terra held her, as best as his damaged arms could. "And the couples dress to match."

Aqua laughed through her sobs, at the state of them in their bandages, shivering for warmth in their hospital gowns, and in one blink that lasted a decade, she was home.

 


End file.
